The Potions Master's Apprentice
by Kerichi
Summary: Apprentice to a reclusive Welsh Potions Master, Severus finds that while his craft might be a subtle, exact science, love is not, and hiding a secret is more complicated than brewing glory. Sequel to 'More than a Feeling'.
1. Popping Bubbles

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Ch. 1- Popping Bubbles

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The bath would have been perfect if it had not been for the bubbles. As he rested against the porcelain rim of the enormous claw foot tub, Severus popped one of the nuisances floating past his face and mused, "What earthly good is a bubble? It serves no practical purpose. The amount of actual soapbark and yucca contained within is infinitesimal. If the function is supposedly decorative, I say the view is more scenic _without _obstruction."

Lying back against his chest, his partner turned her head to kiss his cheek. "Thank you," Eris said smilingly, "but the ylang ylang and sweet orange ease anxiety and encourage relaxation." Dark blue eyes slanted mischievously. "According to the aromatherapy tome I found in the library, the essential oils have an exotic, sensual aroma that soothe emotion and relieve tension while leaving skin smooth."

Severus slid wet brown strands away from her ear and bent to murmur, "Your skin is already like silk, and if one set of tensions was eased, another was roused."

Water sloshed over the side of the tub when Eris shifted in his arms. He met her seeking lips eagerly. The press of her mouth and skin evoked feelings that months of intimacy had only strengthened. Although at times Severus regretted the need to circumvent the directive stating apprenticeships were strictly unaccompanied, he was not sorry. The knowledge that his partner had chosen love over the demands of family gave him a sense of emotional security he had never had before.

Thoughts of possessing her heart led to a more physical desire. Before Severus could turn thought into deed, a voice called from the adjoining chamber.

"Hey Tyke, you decent?"

Eris' eyes were wide with shock. Severus said, "Transform."

Tom Wilkes, his Hogwarts roommate, pushed open the lavatory door and laughed to see a cat trying to scramble out of the water. "Kitty needs to learn not to walk on the edge of the tub."

Scooping up his Animagus partner, Severus deposited the bedraggled Siamese onto the bath rug. The growling sounds she made sounded like feline imprecations. His lips twitched. Watching Tom kneel down with a towel, he said, "Your discourteous invasion of private quarters caused the unwelcome soaking, so blame only yourself if Epis scratches."

"Don't blame me, little beauty, blame him for using the same ward we put on our dorm at Hogwarts." The dark Englishman grinned. "I came all the way to this isolated keep perched on a godsforsaken rock in the north of Wales. The least you can do is to allow me a bit of fun." Finished drying the cat, Tom snickered. "Are those _bubbles_?"

"Ylang-ylang is widely used in herbal medicine," Severus replied stiffly.

"Ylang-ylang?"

"An essence derived from flowers of a tree native to islands of the South Pacific and Indian Ocean. It relaxes," Severus informed austerely as possible while surrounded by frivolous foam.

Snorting, his friend picked up the small flagon beside the tub and sniffed. "Smells like something Claire would like."

"By all means have it--as long as you adjourn to the other room forthwith."

"Embarrassed to be seen playing with bubbles?" Smirking, Tom slipped the flagon into a robe pocket. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, although the hilarious image is fixed in my memory forever."

"Go."

"Come on, Kitty, we don't want to see anything that will give us nightmares." Picking up the cat that mewed a protest, the wizard exited the lavatory, chuckling.

A drying charm and _Accio clothing _later, Severus entered his living quarters. Tom was sitting in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace, scratching behind the cat's ears. Dropping into the adjourning seat, Severus could not prevent a complacent half-smile when the feline sprang into his lap, purring.

His friend said, "The kitty's name means hope, and I hoped her companionship would make losing your girl's a little easier."

Severus inclined his head.

Tom continued, "My girlfriend is still hoping Eris will send another letter, although it's been months since she ran off."

"She was of age."

"Tell that to her father. Ulrik Greyback has upped the reward for knowledge of Eris' whereabouts, and sent her uncle hunting down every lead."

The mention of Fenrir Greyback sent a frisson of apprehension through Severus. The werewolf was known to be vicious and relentless.

"Clive Sutton emigrated shortly after Eris disappeared, so the family is trying to trace him in Australia."

"And you are sharing this because…."

"I could just be making conversation."

Severus lifted a brow.

The other man laughed. "Actually, I've been assigned to Greyback's unit, and he put me on the job."

"Ulrik?"

"Fenrir."

That could only mean... "I had not heard you received the Dark Mark."

"It's not the kind of thing you send out announcements for, mate." Raising his left arm, Tom pulled down the sleeve to show the distinctive skull. With a mixture of dread and anticipation, Severus felt his own skin tingle. Tom leaned forward. "It was like nothing I'd ever experienced. The pain was so great it was almost a pleasure. It made me a tad more sympathetic to masochists like Lestrange."

"Rodolphus?"

"Rabastan. Fenrir told me some stories that might put a curl in even your lank hair, but that's not important."

"What is?"

"He's holding Greyback responsible for permitting his daughter to run off. The Dark Lord frowns on men unable to control their families. Ulrik has lost much influence within the Knights of Walpurgis." A sly smile crossed Tom's face. "His loss is our sponsor's gain."

Severus felt the tension in the slender body beneath his fingers. He petted in long, soothing sweeps down her back. Calmly, he said, "Pour a glass of firewhisky and we'll drink to Lucius' good fortune."

Tom picked up the decanter of Ogden's Finest from the table beside his chair and poured them each a generous measure. "Forget bold, may fortune favour the Slytherin--namely us."

Glasses clinked together as Severus seconded the toast. Taking a drink, he asked, "Are you here to visit a friend or to gather information?"

"Both. Since you were close to Eris, I figured you might have an idea or two where she's gone."

"We did not part as friends promising to stay in touch. I received no letter."

"I didn't think you had, but you were seeing her for a long time. Surely the girl confided _something_?"

Severus rubbed beneath the cat's chin. "Eris told me she would not marry a man not of her choosing and that she had skills to make her way in the world."

"Transfiguration. Right."

Severus nodded, thinking how ironic that the wizard searching for Eris was seated in a chamber she had transformed with her spell work. While Tom proceeded to relate the different leads others had followed, Severus thought back to a day in July.

-

_The farmer who had given him a ride from the village pulled his cart to a halt. _

_Severus looked from the steep pathway to the keep that loomed over the hillside. "You jest." From her perch on his lap, 'Epis' meowed. _

"_Likes his privacy, does old Mordred." As his passenger removed his trunk from the cart, the man said, "Pob lwc."_

_Recalling the Welsh phrase, Severus nodded. "Good luck to you also."_

_The civility earned a laugh. "No, that's the name of the castle." The man waved. "Prynhawn da."_

_Severus did not see what was so good about an afternoon spent trudging up a rocky trail, but he returned the pleasantry and prepared to locomotor his trunk. _

_Once atop the craggy outlook, he admitted that the view of the countryside beyond was exceptional. It was an excellent position both to defend and stand guard over the valley floor. Turning to the Welsh D-shaped keep he had read was typical of the 13th century, Severus could imagine archers taking fire. _

"_Meowrrr?" _

_The questioning sound ended medieval musings. Severus continued toward the round tower._

"_Croeso, welcome."_

_The old man looked nothing like the nephew he had seen on a Chocolate Frog card. "Master Mordred Ap Meurig?" _

_Wispy white hair on a balding head shook. "Gruffydd. The master is busy. He will see you tomorrow. Come, quarters are this way."_

_The stone fortress was as stark inside as without. Flickering torches lit the stairway up to 'guest chambers'. Informing that he would deliver a meal later, the man departed. Severus pulled out his wand, engaging charms to ward the rooms and ensure complete privacy. Finishing, he looked down at the Siamese and quipped, "The fees you paid merited a higher standard of luxury." _

_Transforming back into a young woman, Eris looked around and shrugged. "I'm up to the challenge." Stepping closer, she smiled. "The first thing I'll transfigure will be the bedding."_

_He reached out to cup her cheek. "Sheets like those at the inn where our first nights were spent would be pleasant." _

_She turned her head to kiss his palm. "It will be my pleasure."_

_-_

Tom saw the faint smile induced by the memory and said, "So glad our fruitless searching amuses you." Breaking into a grin, he added, "I was tired of laughing at incompetents by myself."

"You will do better?"

"Of course. I'm from Yorkshire. We've got terrier qualities."

"I refuse to be likened to a dog." Severus wished he could refute his Yorkshire home and heritage as easily.

"You prefer being called a bat?"

Severus sneered at hearing one of a Gryffindor gang's favourite deprecations. "That's _malevolent bat _to you."

Tom laughed. "Same old Snape. Good to know you haven't changed. I'll have to visit more often."

"How long will you stay this time?"

"I leave tomorrow for Paris. Narcissa Black swears a new designer transfigures just like Eris did." He shrugged. "It's not any more farfetched than the other leads."

"Indeed."

Draining his glass, Tom stood. "I'm off to my room until dinner."

Epis hopped down and darted for the bed, leaping up to disappear behind the curtains. Severus rose and extended his hand. "Perhaps you would care for a game of wizard chess afterwards."

"As long as we're not wagering, Tyke…you're too damn good."

"And I was hoping to win another bottle of firewhisky."

Tom chuckled. "I brought one along in case apprenticeship was driving you to drink."

"Not yet," Severus said dryly, seeing his guest to the door. The moment his old roommate exited the quarters, he changed the ward and crossed swiftly to the bed. When he opened the curtains, his partner pressed close.

"I'm worried," said Eris. "Tom has the ability to reason coolly that Uncle Fenrir lacks."

He stroked her back in long, reassuring strokes. "He will find nothing and the Death Eaters will soon direct his attention to more pressing business."

They lay quietly for several minutes, until slender fingers began unbuttoning his shirt. "I'd like to re-direct your attention to the pressing business Tom so rudely interrupted."

Severus heard the quaver in the husky voice and read the mix of emotions in her eyes. He tipped her face up and brushed apart soft lips. A slow and gentle exploration of Eris' mouth and body gave the love and comfort she needed. After the arms wrapped around him relaxed and her eyelids drifted shut, he inwardly echoed her contented sigh and allowed his own eyes to close.

-

Dinner was interesting, to say the least. On the second night of residence, 'old Mordred' had invited Severus to dine and stated bluntly that he enjoyed solitude and his apprentice could either have a tray delivered or conjure his own meals.

Considering that the meat had been underdone and the vegetables overcooked into unpalatable mush, Severus had taken the latter option.

Pressing the roast beef, idly wondering if the amount of blood meant the meat was exceedingly fresh, he was grateful Eris had promised to keep a plate under stasis cover for him. Tom ate with apparent enjoyment, asking his host, "What's so special about the D-shape of the keep? Flying up, I saw people beside a Muggle vehicle pointing excitedly at it."

The strong jaw his nephew had inherited along with canny black eyes tightened. "You didn't hex them, did you? Aversion and illusion charms prevent the history-crazed from photographing or approaching the _ruin _they see, and I don't want Wizengamot types coming round, complaining the Muggle Minister is whining about losing tourist revenue again."

"Of course not." Tom looked at Severus and winked.

"Good. Now about the architecture," said Mordred, in the tone of one who had spoken the words many times, "the Welsh have always relied on cunning. Combining the more vulnerable designs of a tower and a rectangular keep, the curved exterior offers a wider field of fire while the flatter, interior space provides more spacious rooms."

Severus' eyes travelled to a stone carving of armed soldiers, lingering on the bow. Aside from some stained glass and a few tapestries, it was the only decorative element in the stronghold.

Noting the direction of his gaze, Ap Meurig chuckled. "The Welsh Long Bow won many a war, but I doubt either of you could draw it without the aid of magic."

Tom said, "You have any lying around?"

A boyish smile crossed the old wizard's face. "I do, Mr. Wilkes, and targets as well, if you and Mr. Snape would care to test your prowess after dinner."

-

Even with the aid of charms, archery was a greater challenge than Severus had anticipated. Inside the armoury, he and Tom envied the Welshman's smooth motions and struggled to release an arrow with even a fraction of the skill.

"Ha!" crowed Tom. "I hit a target!"

Severus arched a brow. "It was _my _target."

"So, I don't see you hitting anything. I bet you twenty galleons against that bottle of firewhisky you can't hit the target with your last arrow."

"Done." The confidence of Severus' tone belied the knots in his stomach. He cleared his mind and concentrated on performing the fluid motions his Master had demonstrated. Strangely, he imagined the castle under siege, his bow the only chance to take out the English lord who coveted his land…and his wife.

_Thwack!_

Blinking, he stared at the arrow embedded in the centre of the target.

"Never go against a Yorkshire man when firewhisky is on the line," Tom said with a rueful grin.

"You looked fierce, drawing back the bow. What were you thinking, when you released the arrow?" asked Mordred

"Nothing." The truth was too bizarre, and mostly likely due to toxic food. He had thought _Twll din pob Sais! Cymru am byth! _Down with the English! Wales forever!

-

Instead of playing chess, the young men accepted their host's challenge to play darts. Following several matches and a shared bottle of firewhisky, Severus bid the others goodnight and returned to his chambers. Once he opened the door, he realised that liquor on a empty stomach had predictable results. Smiling, he warded the door and went looking for food.

"Hungry?"

Nodding sheepishly, Severus took another bite of the food Eris had kept warm for him. "Starved. Gruffydd may be a decent retainer, but his cookery is shite." Her soft laughter made him grin. "Did I wake you?"

Eris sat in the chair across from his. "I was reading in bed. I can't go to sleep without you."

His smile widened as he sat, content to admire her sweet nature…and the cleavage revealed by the deep V of her robe.

Her lips curved. "Been drinking, have you?"

"However did you know?" He snickered.

She giggled. "I see your teeth when you smile."

Severus gave a bark of laughter. He finished dinner and lifted the brushing/flossing mint. "Making sure I eat no onions to utter sweet breath...or whatever the hell Shakespeare said?"

"Now I know you're drunk, if you're quoting a Muggle."

He crunched the mint and waggled his eyebrows. "A Slytherin uses any means to achieve his end."

"Which is?"

"To get you out of that robe and onto my lap."

"Oh."

How gratifying that he could still make her blush. Giving Eris the look she was most susceptible to, he quoted the eighteenth sonnet, **"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do sh…**damn, I forget." Frowning, he decided that the bard causing him to trip over his tongue instead of speaking trippingly had inspired the literal meaning of 'Twll din pob Sais', _an arsehole every Englishman. _

Remembering one of the lines Mordred had claimed won many a fair maid, his lips turned upward again. "I learnt some Welsh tonight. Would you care to hear?" He took giggles as a yes and lowered his voice to utter silkily, "Pan dwi'n syllu ar dy lygaid, dwi'n gweld y lleuad a'r sêr."

"What does that mean?"

"When I look into your eyes I see the moon and the stars."

Her skin looked incredible in the firelight. He smiled as the girl on his lap twined her arms around his neck. Huskily, Severus repeated the one Welsh phrase Eris spoke flawlessly.

_Rwy'n dy garu di! I love you!_

_-_

After Tom's departure, the routine Mordred had established resumed. In the morning, Severus descended to the dungeon and assembled the ingredients for whatever potion the Master wished to brew that day. Eris often accompanied him in Animagus form, fetching vials and herbs from the storage cupboard as needed.

Later, Ap Meurig would enter and critique his preparations and subsequent potions making. By mid-afternoon, the apprentice was free to do research, experiments, and take his cat on long walks through the countryside.

Eris, when not roaming the castle or keeping him company in the dungeon as a cat, used a Disillusionment Charm to sneak down and visit the library. She performed her own experiments with Transfiguration, and their quarters had greatly benefited from her skill. He encouraged her to write the spells she invented or adapted down. In the future, perhaps her guide to practical transfiguration could be published.

On the day before Hallowe'en, the old wizard came late to the dungeon. Looking up from the medicinal potion he was brewing, Severus froze when Mordred said, "I will test your potion on the morrow. My nephew has come to visit!"

Pouring a ladle of solution into a flagon, the young man labelled it and began to clear away his workbench. The instant he restored order to the laboratory, he headed for the stairway.

In a corridor, he met Gruffydd, who smiled. "There's a tom in the kitchen that shows great interest in your little cat. Maybe they'll make a match. Been a long while since there was a litter of kittens roaming the keep."

Severus broke into a run. On the kitchen hearth, a large black cat was rubbing his cheek against a Siamese, who batted him playfully. In a dire voice, he ordered, "Epis, come!" Acting innocent as a newborn kitten, she padded over with an enquiring mew. He snatched her up with a narrowed gaze. She blinked her eyes at him.

The tom yowled, tail swishing, and then shifted and reformed into a wizard, who laughed. "Jealous over your…cat's…affections, are you?"

His lip curled. Rhydian Ap Meurig looked every bit as darkly handsome in person as he did on a Chocolate Frog Card, the bastard. Severus demanded, "Are you a registered Animagus?"

"No, and I'm not the only one who rebels against a corrupt Ministry." The meaningful look directed at the Siamese removed any faint doubt that the younger Ap Meurig wasn't fully aware of who he had been rubbing against.

Dark emotions tried to claw their way past Severus' rational mind. He resisted the urge to hex. "Does your uncle know?"

"No. He wishes only to be left alone to brew his potions. Mordred once said that a man can't tell what he doesn't know, so he doesn't ask." He smiled at the feline. "If he has any suspicions about sweet Epis, he won't ask about her either. It's better for him that way."

Severus was relieved, and yet…."If you came here hoping Eris would express her gratitude for your assistance other than in a word of thanks, you hoped in vain."

The man began to laugh quietly. "What exactly has she told you about her summer in Wales?"

Disconcerted by the man's reaction, he looked down. His partner was hiding her head in the crook of his arm. Severus replied, "I cared only to know the basic facts."

The outer door opened, bringing in a gust of chill wind and a woman in her thirties. Removing her cloak to expose a petite and pregnant body, she smoothed back long black hair and smiled. "You must be Mordred's apprentice. I'm Catrin Ap Meurig. I see you've already met my husband Rhys." While he stared in disbelief, she exclaimed, "Your cat is a Siamese? We're very fond of…." Dark eyes grew round. "_Epis?" _The feline lifted her head, purring. Catrin asked, "Why doesn't she transform?"

Severus' cheekbones felt hot. He answered stiffly, "Eris forgets to wear clothing."

The husband and wife exchanged amused smiles. "Here, she can borrow my cloak," the woman offered.

The younger man shook his head. "I'd rather she use my robes." There was no chance of skin showing that way. He set his partner down and began working on the fastenings.

"He thought I had dishonourable intentions toward our kitten, my love." Rhydian displayed unnaturally perfect teeth in a broad smile.

Catrin looked up from where she crouched to pet the cat. "Don't tease. He probably wouldn't allow her to explain, fearing she had some schoolgirl crush on a teacher." Scratching behind a triangular ear, she added, "And no doubt Eris enjoyed the benefits of his jealousy."

Severus' entire face felt warm, remembering some of the ways he had used to _prove _he was the better and only man for Eris. His partner meowed softly, trying to soften the sting of her omissions by making kitten eyes at him. Severus fought a smile, tossing his robes onto the sly puss. Let her worry for a moment. Later, she could make it up to him. He wanted another massage with the oil she had created along with a second batch of bubble bath.

After transforming, Eris hugged the other woman and kissed her former teacher's cheek. "I'm so happy to see you, my dear friends! How is the baby?"

"The midwitch tells us he's healthy, and should grow up to be a fine wizard." Seeing the young man's raised brow, Catrin explained in a voice suddenly and alarmingly choked with tears, "I feared he would be just a Squib, like me."

"Don't talk like that. You have more talent than half the girls at Hogwarts. None of them could create art like you do!" Eris told Severus, "The stained glass windows you've admired are Catrin's work."

"The Welsh have always been rich in culture and poor in funds," Rhydian said with a smile, walking over to put an arm around his wife.

"You have a gift. The windows are beautiful." Severus was only stating fact, but Eris smiled as if he had done something wonderful. If it earned him a sensual massage, he would refrain from enlightening her.

A rattling of the doorknob caused the older wizard to say, "I put a jinx on the door, but it won't last long. Transform, and we will speak again soon."

The man's wife said, "Yes, we'll visit frequently, and you can visit us, so we can get to know your partner, too."

Within moments, the girl had become a cat who meowed to be freed of a cocoon of black fabric. Severus lifted his robes, putting them on seconds before the door opened.

Mordred entered, chuckling. "You got me with that sticking charm, nephew, but I'll not be caught again, you prankster."

Leaving to allow the family privacy, Severus paused in the doorway to look back at the cat showing no signs of following. "Epis, come."

She slunk out, keeping a wide distance between them on the way back to his quarters. Inside their chamber, she darted for the lavatory. Eris came out tying the belt to his black robe. She knew how much he liked seeing her in gaping silk, the clever cat.

He said expressionlessly, "Ap Meurig is happily married."

She bit her lip. "I never said he wasn't." Brightly, she added, "How nice that we'll be here when the baby comes!"

"You knew full well that I was jealous."

She was giving him her kitten look. He crossed his arms. She sidled closer. Eris ducked her head and then looked up as if penitent, but her lips twitched. He had to press his own together to contain an answering smile. Removing a small vial from her pocket, she held it up. "Is there something I can do to make it up to you?"

He pursed his lips while taking the bottle. Removing the stopper, he sniffed, detecting Ylang ylang and sweet orange. Severus nodded. "If the essential oils will ease your anxiety and relax us both, I would be amenable to a mutual massage."

Slender fingers stroked his face. "There is no place in the world I would rather be than here with you. _Rwy'n dy garu di_."

He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. "And I love you, _Cariad_."

-

* * *

-

A/N: Cariad means darling in Welsh, which is probably why Snape was more comfortable saying it, lol. Now, I know I said in the final chap of **More than a Feeling** (before I edited) that this would be a one shot sequel, but… What about Tom's investigation? Narcissa's wedding? Eris' grandfather is old…is she really never going to see him again? Will Catrin's baby have a cat at his naming ceremony? And what about Severus' courier duties for the Knights of Walpurgis? What dangers will he face? Would his path and James' ever cross? Will his mother expect him to return home for Christmas? How would Tobias treat his son's 'pet'? Questions, questions!

Because I'm truly grateful to the readers who take the time to encourage, I have to thank the fab folks who reviewed the final chap of 'Feeling' so far. ♥ **40/16 **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** ElspethBates **♥ **Embellished **♥ **FNP **♥ **gothic-wildhorse **♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥ **MamaLisa **♥** NazgulGirl **♥**risi **♥**Slipknot-3113**♥** sunny9847 **♥ **TheLastWerewolf **♥ **and The Ravishing Enchantress **♥ Thank you so much!


	2. The Slytherin in the Dell

The Potions Master's Apprentice

Chapter 2- The Slytherin in the Dell

-

In the depths of the keep, Potions Master faced Apprentice.

"Are you threatening me?" asked Mordred Ap Meurig, with the hint of a smile on his face.

Severus followed the man's gaze to the knife he'd forgotten he was holding and hastily set it down. He'd been in the midst of preparing the day's potion when Mordred had entered the dungeon to make a shocking request. Even now, it was hard for the young man to get his mind around the idea. Carefully, he asked, "Are you quite certain that is the only location at which…"

"Are you questioning your Master?"

Yes, but from the frown on the wizard's face, it would be unwise to admit it. Instead, he prevaricated, "I was merely enquiring if the roots could be found in…more agreeable…surroundings."

"Have something against Muggles, do you?"

The old man was enjoying this. Although inwardly he sneered _Am I Slytherin?_ Severus remained outwardly impassive. "I wish only to serve you in the most efficient manner. The presence of…non-magical…persons is an obstacle…"

"Easily dealt with," Mordred interjected. His tone was gently mocking. "Chamaelirium luteum, or False Unicorn, is indigenous to the Americas. As I have not the time to apply for a Portkey and spare my apprentice's delicate sensibilities, you must harvest it from whence it has been planted in Wales." Heading for the stairway, he added, "It's a delightful place. The Muggles are justifiably proud. Take your cat for a walk through the gardens while you're there. Consider it a holiday."

"Meowrrr…"

The sound brought Severus' gaze to his Animagus partner. The Siamese was batting a paw toward a cauldron in danger of bubbling over. Lowering the magical flames, Severus double-checked to ensure his Master was gone before muttering darkly while chopping and adding the final ingredient to the simmering potion, "A holiday my arse- the opportunity to yank my chain is more like it…"

The cat made her delicate way to his side and rubbed her forehead against his arm. He petted her, grumbling, "I highly doubt this Muggle tourist attraction is the only place in Britain to find False Unicorn. Mordred is merely a sadistic old bastard." After using cleansing spells, Severus tipped the cat's chin up to ask, "Why haven't you shifted?" Raising his wand, he checked the ward on the door. It was engaged. The spells ensuring privacy were active as well.

The svelte animal transformed into a young woman sitting on the worktable. "I didn't want to distract you," said Eris with a feline smile.

His eyes roamed the curves inadequately concealed by midnight blue lace. "My concentra…Why do you constantly transfigure clothing you do not wear?"

"Don't worry; I'll dress properly when we go to harvest the False Unicorn."

"See that you do. Now, as I was saying…" His brow furrowed for an instant and then cleared as he stated, "My concentration is not so easily impaired."

When she leaned forward, the loosely tied robe gaped open. "I was more concerned about you 'seeing' the dream I had last night. It was so hot, I was afraid your cauldron might…"

She appeared more on the verge of laughter. He raised a brow and taunted silkily, "What? Boil over?"

"_Melt_."

He had to see what the naughty puss had been dreaming. Framing her face with his hands, Severus looked into Eris' eyes and 'saw' a fantasy that would have been very distracting indeed. Hoping his face didn't appear as warm as it felt, he quipped, "Your Professor Snape fixation is disturbing."

"Anything else?" she asked breathily, leaning closer.

His hungry kiss answered the question. They strained together, hands and lips caressing and exploring. Yanking at the fastenings of his robes, he raised his head to ask, "Are you sure…?"

"Yes, Professor," Eris purred, guiding his mouth back to hers.

-

Two days later, he stalked down a path in Bodnant Gardens, fuming to his Disillusionment charmed partner, "One more day and this place would have been closed for the season, but no, the alignment of the stars told Meurig November 5th was _the _propitious day of bloody harvest!"

"The stars did seem brighter last night."

"That was because we were sleeping under them and you were a cat."

"Oh…well, this is still a nice day, and Bodnant has a lovely meaning. _Dwelling by the stream…"_

"Dwelling by the multitude of Muggles would have been more apt," he said testily, before exhaling sharply and admitting, "I am never at ease amongst crowds, much less Muggles."

"I guessed that when you saw the car park and lost all colour."

He gently pressed the unseen hand that slipped into his. "This terraced garden, the lawns surrounding Bodnant Hall. Do they cause you to miss your home?"

"No. My home is where you are."

Severus looked out, across the valley toward the Snowdonia range, while saying, "I feel the same."

An old couple approached, the woman mourning, "If only we'd been able to visit when the leaves were at their peak. There's hardly a red, purple, or gold leaf to be seen."

Striding away from the Muggles' reminiscence of past autumnal brilliance, he headed down the sloping path, toward the lower portion of the small, deep valley. Formed by the River Hiraethlyn, the dell contained the so-called 'Wild garden'.

"The pamphlet states they grow a wide range of plants from all over the world," Eris said in a cheerful voice. "Chinese, North American, European, and Japanese plants suited to the Welsh soil and climate have thrived here."

"Fascinating."

"Isn't it? Gardeners, artists, photographers, and families flock to Bodnant. It's considered one of the most beautiful gardens in the UK."

Her deliberately perky recital made his lips twitch, even while he said, "Stop reading that confounded pamphlet and use your Herbology expertise to locate the Chamaelirium luteum."

Soft lips brushed his cheek. "Alright. I know it's a rare woodland herb that grows in moist, shady areas. If it was May or June, we could look for the flowering stalks, but now…the leaves are long and smooth, and form a whorl."

They stepped off the winding path and continued downhill. He began to scan beneath the trees, saying, "I need to gather enough to dry for later use and to chop now for decoctions and tinctures."

"Does Mordred suffer from an ailment that's treated with the herb?"

Shrugging, Severus replied, "A liver disorder? Perhaps. He has not confided in me." Smirking, he added, "It's not for menstrual or menopausal reasons, although I suppose it could be for a uterine problem."

Eris' teasing voice came from a short distance away. "I've heard False Unicorn is used to stimulate the reproductive organs. Think Mordred wants to be a father?"

He grimaced. "Merlin forbid." Leering in her direction, Severus called, "Now if it stimulated reproductive _urges, _I'd advise you to drink a decoction twice daily."

"Merlin forbid!" she retorted laughingly. "I need at least a few hours sleep at night!"

Looking away to hide a smile, he spied a plant whose leaves coiled into a rosette. He called to Eris and knelt to loosen the soil. They began to extract the roots and had almost harvested a sufficient amount when two little girls came barrelling down the slope.

One of the dark haired children shrieking in glee caught sight of the man amongst the greenery. She stopped in her tracks to stare, causing the other girl to bump into her. Taking a step forward, the child said, "_Beth yw eich enw?"_

He frowned at the six or seven year old who had probably cajoled her friend to wander away from a larger group of school children. "My name is none of your concern and I do not wish to chat." Severus waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Run along."

Taking another step forward, this time dragging her more prudent companion with her, the girl asked, "_Ydych chi'n byw yma?"_

Expelling an impatient breath, he again deciphered her question using the Welsh Mordred had taught and answered, "Am I a troll, to live under a bridge, or an Ogre from the marsh? No, therefore I do not live here. Now go away."

Both the girls broke into giggles. Beside him, Eris whispered, "They're so sweet." Her arm slipped through his and squeezed. "Maybe they think you're a dragon."

He scoffed, "Yes, I am a dragon, and you are my invisible princess that I will carry back to my cave and devour."

"A _fairy _princess?"

Severus turned to see the girls standing much closer. Stuffing a few last roots into a stasis sack, he rose to his full height and looked down his nose at the interlopers. "This absurd dialogue is at an end. Return to your teacher. Demand an ice or sweet at the confectionary kiosk and throw a tantrum until your desires are granted- do anything other than remain here."

The girl who had remained silent peered beyond her friend's shoulder to ask, "Is she beautiful, your invisible fairy princess?"

He rolled his eyes. "Very."

The bolder girl demanded, "Is she under a spell or something, is that why she's invisible?"

"Yes."

Two pairs of big dark eyes sparkled. "Will you kiss her and break the spell?" the shy one asked with a wide smile.

"No."

Small faces crumpled. Tears he was sure could be summoned at will threatened to fall. He curled his lip, refusing to give way to miniature Machiavelli. Down turned lips trembled.

"Severus, they're Muggles who will be accused of over-active imaginations if they tell anyone. What would it hurt?"

He sighed heavily. "That's your inner Hufflepuff talking."

"She loves you too."

Sparing a glance at the two who were gazing hopefully, he stipulated, "Only for a moment, and then we Disapparate."

"Thank you. I promise to go directly to our cave. I'll even transfigure a bed of gold to await devouring upon."

Clearing his throat, Severus nodded. "Agreed." Trying to ignore the 'oohhh's' of his audience, he reached out and cupped the cheek of the woman that couldn't be seen. He found her mouth and gently parted it in a kiss.

"_Awwww…"_

He opened his eyes to see Eris smiling at the little girls. She blew them a kiss and Disapparated. They stared, open-mouthed, until he roared, "GO!"

"The dragon! The dragon!" they yelled happily, running back up the slope. Sardonically, he wondered if all women, regardless of age or magical ability, were Hufflepuffs inside.

-

A thunderstorm swept across the valley. Indifferent to the weather, Severus was in the kitchen gathering items for tea. Eris had contracted a cold from the previous day's exposure to germ-laden Muggles, so he insisted she take a Pepper Up potion and rest while he prepared the evening meal. Hearing the sound of wings beating against glass, he looked over to see the castle retainer backing away from the window. When the younger wizard moved to let a tawny owl inside, Gruffydd warned, "Ill tidings ride upon fell winds."

Severus was more concerned about the gust of horizontal rain. Taking the missive and offering the messenger a treat, he closed the window and asked, "Is that another charming Welsh saying?" He slipped the letter from Tom into his pocket to read later.

Sniffing in disapproval over the apprentice's irreverent tone, the man promised, "You will soon believe in ill-omens." He held out his arm. When the owl alighted, Gruffydd said, "This one has come far. A night's rest in the owlery will see him right again. _Nos da_.

"Goodnight," returned Severus, heading for the stairs.

Back in their chambers, the torches were dimmed and the bed curtains drawn. He placed the tray on the table between chairs on the hearth, frowning over the slight chill in the air. In short order, he used his wand to throw another logon the fire and augment the warming charm. Satisfied with the resulting warmth, he opened the curtains.

"Something smells delicious."

Other than a few wisps of smoke coming from her ears, his partner looked healthy, if drowsy. She smiled and reached up to caress his cheek. "Or maybe that's just you, Carwyr."

His lips twitched. " What were you attempting to call me?"

"Lover."

He pulled back gold satin sheets and held out a robe in a matching shade of velvet. "I'll help you with pronunciation later, but for now, dinner is served, Cariad."

Eris kissed his cheek and then slipped her arm through his. "What did you conjure?

Severus waited until she was seated before lifting a stasis cover. "Snake stew."

Her startled laughter made him smirk. "In truth, Gruffydd is keeping company with the cook at the inn. She visited and brought an enormous pot of rabbit stew." Waving his hand at the linen covered basket, he said, "I conjured the bread."

Taking a piece, she smiled quizzically. "Is it flatbread, or a type of Ciabatta?"

He handed her the crock of butter. "It was supposed to be a baguette."

Eris slathered a bite and popped it into her mouth, chewing vigorously. "Mmm…"

"That bad?"

Taking a gulp of water, she swallowed. "No! It's good, and will be even better soaked in gravy."

Severus lifted a piece of bread and let it fall on the table between them. The cutlery rattled. He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, we could hold off an enemy army by hurling it from the battlements, but you made it, so I love it, and I'm going to eat it!"

A fleeting smile crossed his face. "Perhaps if we discard the crust…save it for a siege…"

She giggled and handed over the butter. They exchanged smiles and began to eat. After the stew was gone and the edible bread salvaged, he brought out Tom's letter and told Eris about Gruffydd's 'ill-omen'. She encouraged him to read and form his own opinion. Nodding, he broke the wax seal and rapidly scanned the lines before reading aloud.

_S, _

_I've seen Paris in the springtime, and I much prefer fall. Not as many Muggles polluting the city. _

_Since Claire demands correspondence to reassure her of my continued devotion or some rot, I've decided I may as well scratch out letters to you while I'm putting quill to parchment. The designer turned out to be a false lead, but the trip wasn't a total waste of my valuable time. One of our lord's French supporters paid highly for me to ensure a certain model returned his affections. Not that I needed the Galleons, but I wasn't going to waste any on over-priced perfume, and now I can send the stuff to Claire. She's become envious of the way Malfoy spoils his fiancée, and this should pacify the greedy minx for awhile. _

_Greyback won't be satisfied, but I'm out of biting range and planning to stay that way. I'm headed to Milan. The designer examined the blouse Eris transfigured and admitted it looked very similar to one she'd seen at a recent show. If my girlfriend doesn't travel to meet me there, I may entrance a model for myself. _

_Expect another visitor soon._

_T _

_-_

"It's the classic styling," said Eris.

Severus looked up. "You are referring to the blouse?"

"Yes, that's why Cissy and the designer both thought they'd seen it before."

A corner of his mouth turned up. "Then we can only hope the second designer also 'remembers' that they've seen the design before and sends Tom even further away."

"Mongolia would be good."

He chuckled and stood to clear the dishes while she transfigured the two armchairs into a love seat. Sitting with his arm around Eris, he gazed into the fireplace and tried to relax. The blue tipped flames consuming the logs were soothing to watch. His partner's soft warmth combined with a full stomach caused his eyes to become heavy. Before they closed, he thought he could make out the shape of a bow in the fire…

-

_Lightning flashed overhead, illuminating the valley beyond the keep. The accompanying thunderclap stirred no reaction from the wizard who was lost in dark thoughts._

"_Elin said the bones reveal the coming of a fearsome storm."_

_Continuing to stare beyond the castle wall, the Welshman snorted. "Tell my mother I divined as much by simple observation."_

_A drop of rain splashed his hand. He glanced at the woman who had joined him. "Return to the solar."_

"_My place is at your side."_

_Inwardly smiling, he said dryly, "And I had heard Englishwomen were submissive creatures."_

"_I allowed a Welshman to carry me away from a tournament, did I not?"_

"_Enticed." _

_Warm laughter offset cold rain. "I merely submitted to your desire."_

_The wizard pretended to scowl. "You bewitched me."_

"_The enchantment was mutual."_

_He smiled a bit, raising her hood before saying, "I have received word that the Treaty of Montgomery will soon be broken. Your English king would have Cymru a Dominion, not a Principality." Taking her hands in his, he vowed, "No Lloegr, Englishman, will take what is mine."_

_Tugging gently, his wife coaxed, "Come to bed, and let us forget the storm."_

_He nodded, aware that it was a different kind of tempest that was to be feared…and fought…_

_-_

"_Carwyr_, wake up."

When he opened his eyes, Severus saw that Eris was standing over him, her hand on his shoulder. "I fell asleep."

"Yes, and you must have been reading Welsh history again. I heard you mumble several words." Reaching for his hands to tug him to his feet, she said, "It's probably due to the thunder." At that moment, lightning flashed outside, followed by a thunderclap that rattled the windowpanes. Eris startled in reaction and then smiled. "Let's go to bed and forget about the storm."

He stared and then slowly nodded. Later, when the thunderstorm had turned into a gentle rain, Severus watched Eris sleep, tensing and then relaxing his muscles so he could do likewise. Finally drifting off, he dreamt of misty mountains and a dragon curled upon a bed of gold, jealously guarding his treasure.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Yes, I had fun singing "Hi-ho, the derry-o!" this chap and working in my love of J.R.R. by having Snape going a bit Smaug. So I couldn't help the Misty Mountain reference or the title. Or I didn't want to. LOL. Thanks go to everyone who reviewed the first chapter and wanted more! ♥ **40/16 **♥** Arilla Rossi **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** Dipper**♥** ElspethBates**♥ **FNP **♥ **gothic-wildhorse **♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **Jedi Knight Padme**♥ **Lady Webster **♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥ **Machiavelli Jr**♥** NazgulGirl **♥ **Sivaroobini Lupin-Black**♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Slytherin Love Goddess** ♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **TheLastWerewolf **♥ **and The Ravishing Enchantress **♥ I heart you people...and anyone else who might be inclined to acquiesce to my request for a review!


	3. The Accidental Tourist

Chapter 3- The Accidental Tourist

-

He never tired of the routine of potions making. Whether using a mortar and pestle for grinding or a silver knife for chopping, the apprentice gained deep satisfaction from using precise skill to transform herbs into shimmering solutions. The brew he was currently steeping contained a pinch of white willow bark, blue vervain, feverfew and rosemary leaves, and skullcap. Once combined, the ingredients swiftly blended and sent up fragrant vapours. He removed the beaker from the magical flames and poured a measure into an earthenware mug.

"Thank you, Severus. I think I transfigured one too many times today."

Watching Eris drink the headache brew, he inclined his head toward the cauldron simmering on another work table. "At least your remedy is practical. Of what use is _Scintillation Solution_?"

Smiling, his partner said, "Well, people who aren't energetic and enthusiastic would enjoy feeling that way temporarily, I suppose." Cleaning her mug with a spell, she asked, "Did Mordred say what he invented it for?"

Curling his upper lip, Severus nodded. "The Kwikspell Company commissioned it. They want to include the potion, along with several others, in their correspondence curriculum."

Replacing her mug on a shelf, Eris slid her arms around his waist. "You don't think very highly of them?"

"The founder was Uric the Oddball."

She hugged him, laughing softly. A smile flickered across his face. It was exceedingly pleasant to have someone value his quips. At school, his sardonic wit had not been much appreciated. Besides Eris, Tom and Lucius were the only ones his sarcastic humour amused instead of angered. His lips curved, remembering some of the occasions he had cut Marauders down to size.

"Your eyes are glittering…what are you thinking about?"

Deciding the tale of rapier wit puncturing her friend James' bubble of conceit would not evoke smiles, he looked deep into her eyes. "It has been two weeks since I 'saw' one of your fantasies. Have you had any others?"

His low, silky tone brought a blush to her cheeks. Blue eyes became like mirrors, reflecting only their current position. He chuckled. Eris might hold another Legilimens at bay with her Occlumency, but he knew how to find chinks in her mental armour. Severus used his fingertips to trace the contours of her face. She drew in a quick breath, but held firm. Bending to trace a delicate ear with his lips, he whispered, "Was it another 'Professor Snape' fantasy?" When she caught her breath, he knew how to break down her defences. Trailing tiny kisses to her mouth, he brushed her lips and said, "If you allow me see it; I will be able to fulfil it."

It was like a floodgate opening. He was inside her mind and immersed in fantasy…

_In the dungeon laboratory, a young woman took off her outer robes and began to add the final ingredients to her potion. Behind her, a wizard loomed, face half in shadow as he closely watched her every movement. When her chopping motions became nervous and jerky, he stepped close. Covering her hand with his, the Master demonstrated the proper rocking technique. Eyes heavy, she leaned back against him, her head lolling to the side. Sliding his lips up her throat, the man asked, "Is your lack of underclothing meant to arouse me to some action, Apprentice?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Tell me."_

_She paused to add the last herb with shaking fingers. Turning, Eris dropped her gaze while confessing, "I want you to help test my Levitation Solution."_

Severus dragged his gaze away, breaking the connection and ending the vision. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth to speak, and then shook his head. Pivoting on his heel, he marched directly to the storage cupboard. Opening the doors with a snap, he looked at his wide-eyed partner and said, "If you wish me to explore the possibilities of levitation, you'd best assemble the solution's ingredients, _Apprentice._"

-

After testing the solution and giving Eris top marks, Severus kissed her farewell before she departed to take a nap. Feeling rather mellow himself, he sat on a stool and patiently waited for the _Scintillation Solution_ to cool sufficiently in order to be poured into flagons. While he contemplated how enjoyable it was to have a partner with an active imagination, Mordred entered the dungeon chamber.

"Prynhawn da!"

"Good afternoon," returned Severus, coming out of his slouch in an attempt to seem more alert.

"Mae'n bwrw gla."

These impromptu quizzes thinly disguised as casual conversation in Welsh were annoying. Too prudent to show his feelings, the younger wizard replied, "I was not aware it was raining. Do you think it will stop soon? I planned a walk after dinner."

The Potions Master chuckled. "Gruffydd says he has never seen a _cath_ taken for a walk like a dog before."

"My cat is unique."

Severus' inward smirk vanished when the Master said, "Yes, it's quite touching how devoted you are to your pet." Nodding decisively, he added, "So feel free to take her with you on your excursion."

"What excursion?"

White brows lifted. "Didn't I speak of the Food and Drink Festival over lunch the other day?"

"Only in the most general of terms…"

Clapping the young man on the shoulder, Mordred stepped toward the storage cupboard. "Then I'll explain. As you can see, we are running low on many vital ingredients. The Festival is renowned for its Farmer's Market. Therefore, you will make the short journey to replenish our stores."

With a sinking stomach, the apprentice said, "You wish me to obtain herbs at a Muggle _Festival?_"

"Yes. Is there a reason you object?"

_Other than the paltry fact I despise Muggles and their children who have not the sense to avoid strangers?_ "No, Master."

"Excellent. You may leave in the morning." Smiling in a way Severus _knew_ was an amiable cover for senile glee; Mordred noticed the second cauldron and asked, "Brewed another potion? Very industrious of you…what is it?"

"_Levitation Solution."_

"How did it turn out?"

The younger wizard replied expressionlessly, "Gratifyingly well."

"Good, good…Hwyl am rwan."

Not about to give a cheery 'bye for now', Severus responded with a simple da boch chi, goodbye. Scowling, he poured solutions into storage flagons, cleaned the dungeon, and stomped upstairs to share his bad news.

-

"Isn't this the best day?"

Glancing at the spot his Disillusionment charmed partner stood gushing, Severus looked down at the bustling town centre and said, "If your childhood dream was to run away and join the carnival."

Slender fingers threaded through his. "It does have that sort of atmosphere, with the marquee and all the street entertainment and stalls." He could imagine her curious stare and tried not to fidget. "Did _you _ever want to join the carnival?"

Why had he brought up the subject? Now she would expect him to share. Uncomfortable with the sneaking idea that he might actually want to, he said curtly, "I was five and impressionable."

"I've never been to one. Did you actually go? What was it like?"

Severus began to walk, holding her hand. "Dirty, run by the most disreputable persons and selling the least nutritive food on the planet…"

"So you hated it?"

He remembered the carnie running the 'guess your weight' stall giving him candy floss and saying someone with his talent for sizing people up could go far in the world. Gruffly, he admitted, "I cried when mother took me home."

Eris didn't say a word, but her squeezing of his hand gave away Hufflepuff sentimentality. Severus asked dryly, "Do you feel sorry for that sad little boy?"

"Yes, but when I think of comforting you, it's as an adult."

His brow lifted. He'd have to 'see' that image later. Smirking, he steered her toward the queue of people waiting to purchase entry tickets.

"_Are you Goth?"_

When the question was repeated a second time, Severus half turned and enquired, "Are you addressing me, young woman?"

The denim clad teen giggled with her friends before saying, "Yeh."

He frowned repressively. "No." The line moved forward. Behind him, Severus heard,

"He's wearing black head to toe, and look at that hair. I don't care what he says; the guy is Goth, Jinelle."

"Shut _up _Wynne, he'll hear you!"

"So what Meggan?"

"So if he gives us that death glare again, I'll piss my pants!"

More giggling erupted. Once he'd escaped the nuisances, Severus muttered, "Do I look Germanic to you?"

Eris' low laughter was far more pleasant than high-pitched squeals. "Not Visigoth…gothic, as in a type of novel…dark and broody…or perhaps like those lonely, arrogant musicians…"

"You jest."

"No, Cariad."

Severus huffed, "Darling does not lessen the insult, and I do not sing."

"Yes Cariad."

Considering the subject unworthy of further conversation, he scrutinised the pamphlet handed him with his ticket and pointed. "Y Farchnad…the market."

The paper was tapped by an unseen finger. "Look, the buyer for the Welsh Whisky Company is giving a talk in a few minutes. Would you care to hear it?"

He was torn between wanting to make his purchases and reluctant interest to hear what the man would say. Eris said persuasively, "The talk won't last long."

"Very well."

They made their way over to the 'food demonstration theatre' and found a place to sit in the far back. After the informal lecture, Severus sampled a few of the company's products and pronounced them tolerable.

Eris giggled. "Let's not go near the area they're having a 'Real Ale Festival'. I don't want to see how well you tolerate beer on top of whisky."

He looked around before replying, "Afraid I would become amorous toward my invisible girl?"

"The thought makes me tremble, but it's not with fear."

What cheek. The corners of his mouth turned up. The main 'Food Hall' marquee was enormous and held culinary exhibitions, demonstrations, and displayed the wares of numerous stallholders. Eris asked that he purchase a disposable mug of cider. When she insisted he try it, he shook his head. "Dim diolch."

"Welsh, right…hmmm…did you say 'thank you' or 'no thank you'?"

"No thank you."

"Oh. Well, _iechyd da_ anyway."

He corrected her pronunciation of 'cheers', or 'good health'. A man passing by heard and lifted his cup of insipid apple product. "Iechyd da!"

It was interesting to watch the cider disappear. Since Disillusionment wasn't true invisibility as much as a total blending into surroundings, he could almost 'see' her. Eris made a lovely shadow.

She stayed close behind while he strolled through the section of garden plants. Reaching the stalls mounded with fruit and veg, Severus used his height to scan the displays. Finding herbs for sale, he approached the vendor and asked, "Do you have any Bog Myrtle?"

"Sweet Gale? No, it's out of season. Loses its leaves at the first frost, but I know a woman who preserves it somehow. Dera Bowen…last stall on the right."

Inclining his head in civil gratitude, he headed for the stallholder who was able to keep herbs fresh out of season. Approaching, his rigid posture became more relaxed. She didn't wear a pointy hat, but he knew the woman was a witch. Bright green eyes in a face lined with age and laughter surveyed him curiously. "May I help you?"

"Here is a list of herbs I require. Do you have them?"

Skimming it, she said, "I haven't seen parchment for awhile. Apprenticing with Ap Meurig? Wonders never cease. I'll take a look."

"Thank you, Madam Bowen."

"Call me Dera. Mordred does."

Reaching down into a basket, she withdrew a bundle of whose small green leaves emitted a pleasing scent. It was bog myrtle, found across Scotland and North Wales.

"It reminds me of walking through a meadow in sunshine," whispered Eris.

"I hope your master isn't trying to create _Berserking Brew_ again. I've told him over and over that the Vikings only _thought _an infusion of bog myrtle was responsible for their frenzy in battle."

"I believe it will be used to make an insect repellent."

The witch pushed a tendril of silver hair back into her braid. "That is an excellent use." Leaning toward him, she lowered her voiced, "Tell Gruffydd the leaves add a delicate flavour to fish and chicken dishes…he needs all the help he can get, poor man."

Had she tasted the retainer's cooking? Shrugging away idle speculation, Severus watched bladderwrack, milkthistle; horsetail and catmint seed join the other herbs on the stall's counter. While Dera filled his order, Eris tugged him over to an essential oil display. He chose lavender and tea tree oil for a separate, private purchase before enquiring, "Do you carry rose petals?"

"Sorry, a Girl Guide troop bought me out this morning. They planned to make sachets for a fundraiser, if I remember correctly."

He didn't care what the greedy pixies were using them for. The witch read his expression and placated, "Lyneth runs the flower stall across the way. She has them, I'm sure."

Slinging the 'magicked rucksack, no extra charge' over his shoulder, he thanked the woman for her service. Approaching the flower stall, his lips turned down. Familiar, giggling teens were clustered beside it, debating on whether to buy a bouquet and split it or to purchase a single flower each. Pretending not to see them, he asked the proprietor if she had rose petals in stock.

"Yes, I have them divided in a large basket. I'll let you choose your colours and scoop whatever amount you wish into separate packets."

While the woman turned to retrieve the basket, the girls nearby held a discussion whose volume suggested their hearing had been damaged by Muggle music.

"White roses are for purity," said one.

_No white rose petals, _he thought smugly.

"Red is love and red and white together means unity," said another.

_White mixed with lots of red would be acceptable._

"Yellow is for friendship, hope, and joy…will you buy me one, Meggan?" asked the first girl.

_Yellow should be obtained as well. _

"No, Jinelle, but I'll buy a coral rose and pretend Kai gave it to me because he finds me desirable and fascinating," said the girl who said she would piss her pants if he glared again.

_At least a scoop of coral petals must be procured._

"I'd want a guy to buy lavender- enchantment and passion," said the third female with a sigh.

_Did these girls having nothing to do but chat about silly flowers and romance?_

When the stallholder placed the basket on the counter, he said irritably, "A scoop of each kind."

Taking long strides in order to leave the Muggle Festival as soon as possible, he slowed down when Eris called, "I'm sorry if I caused you embarrassment by asking for rose petals."

Severus exhaled sharply. "I was not embarrassed, I was discomfited to realise females put so much meaning into flowers. A rose is just a bloody rose. Women should enjoy the colour and scent and not look for hidden meaning because in all likelihood there is not one."

"I agree."

They were approaching the area Muggles congregated to try games of chance. "Then you will not think I am calling you girlish or whatever the hell pink means if I give them to you to sprinkle in your bath?"

"No, but I hope you'll share the bath and won't mind if I change the candles to coordinate."

He watched children attempt to toss rings onto bottles and said, "Fair enough. Does it matter what colour petals are strewn across sheets?"

"If it doesn't matter to you that I transfigure my lingerie to match."

He shook his head and stepped forward. Using the excuse that he wanted to rid himself of Muggle currency, the wizard paid for the opportunity to toss three rings. Behind him, Eris murmured, "It should be like tossing cards into a hat…all in the wrist."

Severus asked dryly, "Would you care to try your luck?"

"No, no, just…erm…wanted to help."

Sizing up the prizes, he said, "Which stuffed animal would you prefer to win?"

"The Siamese kitten."

Nodding, he quickly ringed three bottles and selected the prize. The tattooed individual running the game stared when he heard a squeal of delight, but Severus' haughty gaze prevented comment. Allowing his face to be covered in kisses, the wizard held the stuffed feline up for a moment's admiration before shoving the thing into his cloak pocket. He was not about to be seen…even by Muggles…toting a stuffed kitten about.

-

Once they'd returned to the keep, Eris transformed into her Animagus form. Entering the kitchen, he saw Mordred talking to Gruffydd in a low, urgent voice. Looking up to see his apprentice, the Master exclaimed, "Back so soon? Did you find everything we need? Yes? Good. I'll take the rucksack and begin adding the herbs to our stores immediately." The reason for the odd stress put on the final word became clear when the old wizard added, "And by the way, you have a visitor waiting in the drawing room."

"Who?" The word burst from stiff lips.

"Mr. Fenrir Greyback. Pob lwc."

_Good luck..._

Bending, Severus picked up his 'cat' and strode into the corridor, instructing, "You will stay in our quarters until Fenrir is gone. If your uncle learns I have a _pet, _chances are he would harm you merely to enjoy causing me pain. Unlike money, your safety is something I refuse to gamble, so obey me on this matter."

A soft mew sounded before the small forehead rubbed against his hand. Relieved, he crouched down to set 'Epis' on the floor. In spite of his worry, Severus chuckled when she batted a paw at his pocket. Holding out her prize, he said, "Thank you. If that fell out, it would severely damage my Knightly image."

A tiny pink tongue licked his hand before the Siamese took the 'kitten' by the scruff of its neck and darted for the stairway. Severus waited for his partner to climb to safety before closing his eyes and mentally disengaging himself from softer emotions. Although Fenrir was no Legilimens, it was good practice. All trace of vulnerability was hidden deep within an impenatrable darkness.

Once intellect became devoid of feeling, he walked into the drawing room and said, "Good evening, Greyback."

The drawled greeting took the werewolf by surprise. "You sound like Malfoy. Aping your betters, are you?"

"I have no betters."

The blond man's coarse features broke into a wolfish grin. "I smell no fear in you." He held out a hand and transformed his fingers into claws. Raising a single brow in detached amusement, the younger wizard placed his hand against a furry palm and shook it firmly. Sharp nails pricked his skin. Showing no reaction, Severus held the man's challenging gaze and coolly enquired, "To what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

-

* * *

- 

A/N: I've never been to "Cowbridge", but I kinda liked the Food & Drink Festival I found when I went google-ing for Welsh farmers' markets. I take inspiration wherever I find it, from a book/film title or article about a festival to random info from HP books, and write in hope that you enjoy the results! The magical people who enjoyed the last chapter enough to graciously leave a review were… ♥ **40/16 **♥** Arilla Rossi **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** Dipper **♥** ElspethBates**♥ **FNP**♥ **GraceRichie**♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** NazgulGirl **♥ **Nemo **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Slytherin Love Goddess** ♥ **sunny9847 **♥** The Ravishing Enchantress **♥ **and **♥ **Yrouna **♥


	4. Fenrir vs Loki

Chapter 4- Fenrir vs. Loki

-

"_To what do I owe the honour of this visit?"_

Fenrir seemed taken aback by the question. Waiting impassively for an answer, Severus was distantly amused by the werewolf regarded as the most savage of his kind. The wizard had not come to Wales for the scenery. He had a definite purpose. Therefore, he was hesitating over whether 'the honour' spoken of was mocking or sincere.

Greyback said warningly, "I bring the Dark Lord's orders, to which you'd best pay heed."

Once his hand had been squeezed in a crushing grip and released, Severus gestured to a nearby decanter. "Of course…may I offer you a drink?"

"Firewhisky? If it isn't local. Welsh whisky tastes like their language sounds. Horrible."

Severus declined to comment on the statement evoking the term 'Arsehole Englishman.' "Its Ogden's Finest."

"That'll do."

After pouring a generous measure into a tumbler, Severus held it out and noticed the fingers which curled around the glass had yellowish, claw-like nails. The Death Eater's graying blond hair looked matted, like that of an unkempt animal. He filed away the evidence of the man's feral nature for future use and waited for his 'guest' to take a seat before sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. The glow of the fire made the werewolf's eyes gleam red.

Severus deduced that his fellow Knight wished him to speak first. "Am I to report to you on this assignment?"

Fenrir drank the whisky in an uncouth swallow. "No. You communicate with Malfoy only. I merely…_volunteered…_to relay the instructions." He bared teeth that revealed a dire need for brushing/flossing mints. "Wilkes' report was comprehensive and yet…did not satisfy. He is, after all, biased in your favour."

The prominent canine teeth likely frightened other men. Not Severus. He inclined his head. "I will gladly answer any further questions."

"I have but two. Do you know the location of my niece?"

"No." He could tell the lie coolly, because it was a half-truth. Severus didn't know exactly where she was at this moment. Eris could be soaking in a bath scented with lavender rose petals or she could be pacing the bedchamber or lying atop the duvet, restlessly awaiting his return.

"If that's true, why do you smell like her favourite fragrance?"

"I was replenishing my master's stores. Essential oils and dried floral ingredients are vital to many potions."

The werewolf cocked his head, nostrils flaring, as if trying to sniff out the truth. Interesting… Could he detect a rise in heart rate or skin temperature? Since neither of Severus' altered, Fenrir relaxed and said gruffly, "I had to ask."

"I understand."

Fenrir nodded in thanks when his drink was refilled. The actions were repeated several times. Staring into the flames, Greyback said with a peculiar rasp in his voice, "Eris is like a daughter to me, perhaps because she could have been my child." Catching the slight widening of Severus' eyes, he gave a mirthless laugh. "Yes, you heard aright. I was the one who offered for Danica, before my _condition_ became known and she was betrothed to Ulrik instead."

"I do not know what to say."

Fenrir barked with laughter. "It's not something pure-bloods talk about. Both families considered my blood tainted and viewed werewolves as creatures instead of superior beings. I said one day they might find themselves overcome by the beasts they loathe and fear." He held the tumbler out. "Do you know how they responded?"

"No." Actually, he had a good idea, since Danica had married Ulrik and borne him two children, but Severus wanted to hear the answer, and more importantly, Fenrir wanted to tell him.

After accepting yet another measure of whisky, the man whispered, "They sneered in my face. Brushed my words aside as those of a disappointed suitor and went on with their alternate plans."

"Unwise." The word slipped out while Severus was ruminating on the story.

Fenrir's grin was predatory. "Somehow, I knew you'd understand…_Tyke._" Taking in a deep breath, the werewolf huffed in amusement. "Didn't know Wilkes shared your common history? Hide your past if you want, but it makes no difference to me, and besides, I have fond memories of Yorkshire."

Staring off, likely remembering those he'd killed or turned into creatures like himself, Fenrir drank his whisky. He said abruptly, "I'm hungry. Is there any decent meat to be had in this miserable excuse for a castle?"

"If you like it exceedingly rare."

"The bloodier the better," said Fenrir.

-

Following a dinner consisting of beef so rare one could almost hear a faint 'moo', the two Englishmen returned to the drawing room.

"Surly fellow, that old Welshman."

Shrugging, the apprentice said of his master, "He prefers solitude."

He refrained from mentioning that Ap Meurig had become quite sociable as the months progressed or that tonight's conduct was remarkably civil, considering the numerous disparaging remarks Greyback uttered against his country and people.

Fenrir resumed his seat in a chair flanking the fire, patting the stomach beginning to strain the fabric of his robes. "The food made up for the host's deficiencies."

Severus made no comment. He had only eaten enough food to offset the firewhisky. Waiting for the Death Eater to speak, he watched the blue-tipped flames. His lips quirked in amusement as the flames took the shapes of his favourite dishes.

"Pour us another drink and I'll tell you about your mission, Snape."

Obediently rising, he returned with firewhisky before sitting up straight in a pose of attention. Silence lengthened. Catering to Greyback's need to feel in control, to be the last to speak, he asked, "What is my mission, sir?"

Fenrir responded with a small smile. "You will be given a list to memorise. The names are those who have not yet contributed funds or much needed information to our cause. You will contact and remind them of their obligations." All traces of goodwill vanished as the man stated, "The Dark Lord expects nothing less than a fully effective network of support, and will not accept failure."

"I will not fail."

Holding out his glass for another shot, Fenrir said, "I will accompany you on the first visit in the morning." Glancing around the room, he scoffed, "Is reading the only thing to do around here?"

"There is wizard chess."

"I said _do, _not sit on your arse."

"Darts?"

Fenrir grabbed the decanter of firewhisky. "Lead the way."

An hour later, Severus was reluctantly impressed by the other man's prowess at darts. Even while drinking heavily, Fenrir always hit his mark. After winning several close matches, the werewolf was in an oddly genial mood.

When Severus escorted him to his chamber, Fenrir said, "Wait." Shuffling into the room, he came back with a tiny scroll. "I was supposed to owl this to you after I left—more imposing or some shite, but you may as well have the list now." He gave over the parchment and laid a hand on his companion's shoulder. "Tom said you cared for Eris."

"Yes."

"Well, I'll find her. She can't hide forever." Stumbling back into his room, the man slurred as he closed the door, "I'll find m'little girl."

_M'little girl…_

Earlier, Fenrir had said Eris _could have _been his daughter…not should have. There was a subtle difference. Combined with the gritty determination to keep searching for a young woman who had taken pains not to be found, the choice of words brought a question to mind. Was Greyback a devoted uncle…or was he something more?

Mind free of the impediment of weaker emotions, Severus decided the potential advantage of such knowledge justified the means he would employ to gain it.

-

He entered his chambers and approached the sofa his partner was curled upon. Watching her sleep, he objectively admired her lovely form before bending to touch her cheek. "Eris, wake."

She stirred and opened her eyes, smiling tiredly before rising to slide her arms around his waist. "Severus, you're back. Did everything go all right?"

"Was there any reason you supposed the meeting would go amiss?"

Dark blue eyes searched his. "You're still…disengaged…aren't you? That's why you seem so distant and cold."

"Cold?" he murmured, before kissing her. She shivered, but pressed closer. Severus caressed her with his hands and lips, enjoying the physical aspects of the embrace, the soft curves and smooth skin. Eris responded to his touch. His own reaction threatened to unleash his tightly controlled emotions, so he pulled back and urged, "Open your eyes."

She shook her head. "No. Not like this."

He caressed persuasively. "I need to access your memories without feelings hindering my search. Let me in," he paused and added the word that seemed to wield magic, "please."

Her eyes opened.

He stepped into the windows of her mind and delved beneath recent, surface memories. As random flashes of their romance and school days transformed into ones of family and home life, he caught a glimpse of something intriguing and focused.

_A girl of seven left her father's library with a tear-streaked face. In the outer corridor, a man whose features were beginning to coarsen stepped out of the shadows. His expression was one of regret. Holding up her bandaged hands, Eris cried, "Why did you have to come and ruin everything?"_

_Fenrir Greyback reached out and smoothed back a lock of her brown hair. "They were Muggles…and you will thank me some day."_

Severus already knew the story of Eris chastised for playing in the snow with Muggle children. It wasn't what he was looking for. He went deeper.

_A girl of four and a wizard with ruggedly handsome features played on a nursery rug while a little boy slept on a cot nearby. On hands and knees, they 'stalked' a miniature stuffed deer. When the pair neared the animal, the man bent and whispered something that made the girl nod vigorously. She pounced on the deer and then looked up, holding the neck of the animal in her mouth._

_Danica Greyback had entered the room, face white with anger. "What are you doing?"_

_A defiant look settled over the girl's small face as she held up the deer. "I'm a wolf, and this is my prey!"_

_Transferring her ire to the man laughing on the rug, the mother's face twisted. "How dare you?"_

_Fenrir Greyback rose with preternatural swiftness and prowled forward. "You know how I dare. You used to love it."_

_Face set, Danica shook her head. "Not anymore."_

_The man's angry expression smoothed when the girl hugged him, saying, "Don't be sad, Uncle Fenny. I love you."_

_He smirked at the woman as he replied, "Do you, sweetheart?"_

"_Yes! We're pack, aren't we?"_

_The girl smiled happily as he knelt and answered, "Yes, we are."_

The image abruptly shattered. Severus jerked in reaction, breaking the mental connection. When he tried to refocus, Eris' gaze was impenetrable. She was using Occlumency against him.

"Why did you bring up those memories?" When he didn't answer, she said, "Uncle Fenrir got drunk and started talking about Mother again, didn't he?" Her smile held more than a trace of bitterness. "Now you know our family's dirty little secret. My uncle was almost my father."

"Are you entirely certain he is not?"

Tears sprang to her eyes. "No." Her lips trembled. "Why? Would it make a difference in how you feel about me?"

He said curtly, "No."

Eris stepped close. "Tell me that when you're whole again."

"Soon. I need only to access..."

"What about my needs?" she said, gripping his robes with hands clenched into fists. "I need you to stop compartmentalising your soul and tell me you love me regardless of who my father is!"

Severus drew breath to attempt reasoning with his partner. It was stolen by her kiss. His resolve to confirm Eris' true parentage weakened beneath an onslaught of passionate kisses. Stubbornly clinging to rationality, he decided to wait until she was most vulnerable to try again.

He might have accomplished his goal if she hadn't cried.

"Please," she whispered against his mouth, unfastening his robes and pushing them off before working on his shirt buttons. "Please love me."

The plea alone would not have broken his internal barriers. It was the silent tears that transferred from her cheeks to his that washed away the darkness he had shrouded his emotions in. His kisses gentled as the desire to satisfy emotional as well as physical hunger grew.

When she pulled him toward the bed, he felt shame for his earlier callousness. "Eris, you do not have to..."

"I want to love you in every way, and I need you to love me."

"I do, _Cariad_," he assured, before lifting her into his arms.

-

Much later, he met a vulnerable gaze and made no effort to delve into painful memories. Looking away to compose his thoughts, Severus felt Eris' fingers caress his cheek and said, "Advantageous as detachment from softer emotions can be, it also poses a danger that, rest assured, will be safeguarded against in the future."

The head resting against his chest lifted. "It's all right. I understand."

He met her eyes. "Can you forgive my unconscionable treatment?"

"Yes. Can you forgive me for keeping the secret…and not wanting to know?"

"Yes. Regardless of who your father is, I love you, and will respect your feelings."

Her smile was radiant. "Thank you."

After a lingering kiss, he confessed, "If your uncle becomes talkative under the influence of firewhisky again, however..."

"Just don't tell me, okay?"

He shifted their positions and said as he kissed his way down her throat, "As you wish."

-

In the morning, Severus tried to pretend the day was like any other. He read the _Daily Prophet. _He had breakfast with his partner. He dressed in plain black wizard robes. He kissed Eris goodbye, telling her, "I will return once..."

"You complete some mission with my uncle."

He looked into her eyes and saw only love and understanding. Feeling fortunate beyond words, he held her for a moment and then stepped toward the door.

By the time he met Fenrir in the kitchen, Severus had used a charm to neutralise scent and was mentally prepared for whatever the day might bring. The sight of a werewolf gnawing on a haunch of beef caused no change in his demeanour, although inwardly he compared the wizard to Eris' memories and remembered a novel from Muggle Studies.

Unlike Dorian Gray, this man had no portrait to bear 'the wages of sin'. His bestial nature was clearly marked on his face.

"Ready? Gruffy here says the place isn't far. We'll walk."

Silently clearing the table, Gruffydd tightened his lips at the disrespect but made no protest. Unconcerned with the retainer's displeasure, Severus followed the Death Eater outside. Fenrir lifted his face to the pale morning rays and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "The air's the only decent thing about this place." Exhaling heavily, he added, "Let's get this job over with so I can leave."

Severus found keeping up with the other Knight's pace more difficult than expected. Although stockier, Fenrir had a fast, loping stride. The kilometres were quickly traversed, and the house on the outskirts of the Muggle village reached before the sun had risen much higher in the sky.

When the two small children playing outside saw the approaching men, they ran into the house, calling for their father. A wiry, dark wizard came out to meet them. Severus nodded. "_Bore da_, Councillor Trewent."

"Good morning," the man repeated warily. "What is your business here?"

Fenrir pulled down his sleeve to show the Dark Mark. "This is our business."

"Come away from the house!" Trewent pleaded. "My wife does not know of my…sympathies."

Fenrir bared his teeth in a smile as grotesque as the claw he transformed. "I'd be happy to help you regain your position as head of household."

"No! No, I'll deal with her in my own way."

"See that you do," advised Severus coldly. "The Dark Lord expects your complete allegiance and immediate notice of Auror activity, Councillor." He jerked his head toward the little girl and boy watching from the doorway. "It would be a shame for you to worry about allowing your children outside on a full moon."

With eyes darting from Fenrir's clawed hand to Severus' fathomless gaze, Trewent solemnly promised, "He has my full loyalty."

Once points of contact had been established and arrangements for the Welshman to transfer funds to a Knight account at Gringotts made, Severus' nod indicated the meeting was at an end. When Fenrir turned away, Trewent mouthed, '_Diolch_', thank you.

"What were you on about, practically warning that weaselling bastard to keep his children inside on full moons?" demanded the senior Knight, once they walked out of hearing range.

"I was using a tactic our adversaries employ to win confidence," replied Severus. Smirking, he added, "You were the 'Bad Auror.'"

Fenrir howled with laughter.

-

Returning alone to the keep, Severus heard Gruffydd call, "An owl for you, apprentice."

He recognised his mother's owl _Nimue _and felt dread pool in his stomach. Severus would have much preferred calm detachment. Retrieving the correspondence, he tersely thanked the retainer for offering to feed and water the owl and went upstairs.

Eris was seated by a desk near a window, writing in what she called her 'future Transfiguration text.' She caught sight of him and rose, asking, "Did everything go smoothly?"

"Yes."

Her gaze fell to the letter in his hand. "Were you expecting a letter from your mother?"

Severus' attempt at a smile felt more like a grimace. "I wrote to inform her I would be spending the upcoming holiday in Wales if there was no urgent need for my presence." He extended the parchment. "Read it, if you please."

She broke the seal.

_Severus, _

_Come home. The Healer says your father is dying. I shall await your letter before making plans. _

_Mother_

Eris' gaze was sympathetic. He said, "Christmas in Yorkshire, lucky you."

In shock, she repeated, "Your father is dying."

Severus quipped, "Lucky me."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Special thanks to **Machiavelli Jr **for making the 'horrible language' comment in the first chap's review and making me think 'What if Fenrir...?'. If anyone wondered about the chapter title, it was inspired by a Yule Oil induced dream in the original story in which Eris imagined Severus as Loki. If any of my fabulous readers haven't seen _The Princess Bride_ (As You Wish!) or read Oscar Wilde's _The Picture of Dorian Gray, _I recommend them both, although Dorian is depressing instead of uplifting like sweet Westley, LOL. Next chap, ever wondered what Christmas at Spinner's End might be like? Jolly is not the word that comes to mind. Those whose reviews gave me reason to be merry and bright last chap were…♥ **40/16**♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** Dipper **♥** ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥ **gothic-wildhorse**♥** GraceRichie**♥ **Libeku Taganashi **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** mkgreevey**♥** MollyCoddles**♥ **NazgulGirl **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Slytherin Love Goddess** ♥ **sunny9847 **♥** and **♥ **The Ravishing Enchantress **♥


	5. Home for the Holidays

Chapter 5- Home for the Holidays

-

Over the ground lay a mantle of white.

Severus stood in front of the brick house in Yorkshire, contemplating the scene. He thought there wasn't enough snow in the world to make his childhood home look festive.

He glanced up and down the street. The rest of the houses were all decorated for the season in some fashion, but his stood out like a sullen child who refused to play with others. It was the one redeeming quality of the home. Muggles displays were garish and ostentatious. Spinner's End was bleak and unwelcoming, but at least it was a proper wizard abode.

"Meowrrr."

He looked at the cat shaking snow off her paw. "You were the one who wanted to play in the snow. Had your fill yet?"

She answered by climbing up his cloak to huddle in his arms. Pursing his lips to repress a smile, Severus held his partner close. With his free hand, he locomotored his trunk toward the house. The hour was late, so there was little danger Muggles would see.

In the window of the lounge, a flame suddenly flickered to life. The sight of the candle was so astonishing; Severus allowed the luggage to drop onto the front step with a thud. Moments later, the door opened.

"Come inside and get warm," his mother urged, looking less old and worn than he remembered. Did the thought of his father's approaching death lift her spirits too?

He greeted her with a slight smile and jerked his head toward the candle. "When did you start that custom?"

"Tonight."

Discomfited by the look in his mother's eyes, Severus said, "Ah. Thank you."

"You are most welcome...and you always will be." Noticing the cat, her eyes opened wide. "Merlin preserve us, a Siamese! Is he yours?"

_"She _is mine, yes. Her name is Epis."

"Epis, Greek for hope. Lovely. Bring her inside and I'll fix you both something to eat."

The interior of the house had not improved since his previous visit. Furnishings were still threadbare, the paint dull with age. The only thing pleasant about the place was the scent. Eileen had made soap recently. Thinking of the 'tour' he had given Eris, Severus' mouth tilted at the corners. His mother was watching him. Her expression showed she found the memory of 'Snape Manor' amusing as well.

Once he had sent his trunk up the stairs to his room, Severus followed Eileen back to the kitchen and hung his cloak on a peg. "Here, let me take that," he offered, reaching for the tea tray. She shot him a look that made him wonder. Helping Eris was second nature--had he not offered to assist his mother from time to time as well?

"No, no, it's not heavy." Placing the tray on the table decorated with a small arrangement of greenery, she waved him to a seat. "Why didn't you mention gaining a pet in one of your letters?"

Severus poured cream into a saucer. He placed it on the floor before accepting a cup of tea. A shrug accompanied his answer. "I did not think of it. It seemed more pertinent to write of the potions I was brewing."

His mother watched the cat with a faint smile. "She's pretty, isn't she?"

All at once, he remembered a conversation on a train platform. His mother had asked about his potions partner, _"Is she pretty?"_ Resisting the urge to say 'very', he replied off-handed, "I suppose."

"Her eyes remind me of..."

"Mother."

"Sapphires," she finished, before asking, "What did you think I was going to say?"

There was a gleam in her eye. She knew very well. Because she expected him to say 'nothing', he answered, "Eris. Her eyes are that shade of blue. Epis was her cat."

"She gave you her pet," said Eileen, her tone soft and sad. Leaning forward, she examined his face closely.

He could feel her trying to 'see' whatever memory he might have left unguarded. Severus smiled faintly. These days, he let down his guard only in the privacy of his chambers. Redirecting the conversation, he enquired, "How did you manage to convince Father to allow a Healer to examine him?"

His mother stood and walked quickly to a back cupboard. "Your kitten needs more than milk. I'll open a tin of sardines."

"Epis is not a kitten. She is a mature cat."

Eileen placed the dish on the floor and petted the Siamese's downy hair. Smiling a little, she said, "That was a figure of speech, not a veterinary pronouncement. Why did it touch a nerve? Are you planning to breed her?"

"Merlin forbid," he said curtly. Shifting uncomfortably beneath the steady regard of both females, he amended, "One day, in the far future, a single kitten would be tolerable, but for now, that is not an option."

The woman stroked the cat one last time before rising. "Since cats seldom have litters of one, perhaps you are wise. They would be quite a distraction in the dungeon."

"They'd wreak havoc," he said, glancing at his partner. She blinked an eye at him and returned to daintily eating sardines. Abruptly realising his mother had out-manoeuvred him, Severus lifted his teacup in a silent toast and then reminded, "I asked about Father."

"Yes, you did." Pouring herself another cup of tea, Eileen said bluntly, "I brewed a Draught of Docility a month ago and I've been dosing him with it ever since."

A short burst of laughter broke the silence. "I thought you promised on your parents' graves never to use potions against Father again?"

Thin fingers crumbled a biscuit. It revealed the inner agitation unheard in her calm voice. "If he had come to the service, Tobias would've known that after a proper wizarding funeral, there are no graves."

Severus covered her hand with his, stilling her nervous action. Pressing lightly, he said, "Well done, Mother."

She shook her head. "No, it was expedient."

"You were Slytherin, not Hufflepuff. Accept the compliment."

Eileen's face lit up in a fleeting smile. "Thank you, Severus."

He lifted his hand. "Thank you for the tea." Standing, he gathered his cloak. Severus paused in the doorway. "I take it there is no need for me to see Father tonight."

"No, no, he's asleep, and not down to his last breath."

Ah, well, there were still two days left until Christmas. Slightly ashamed of his thought, Severus nodded and left the kitchen. His 'pet' streaked past him, running up the steps to his attic chamber. She meowed when he reached the landing and checked the wards for tampering before releasing them. Finally opening the door, he smirked. "If I had known, I would have let you outside."

Returned to human form, Eris threw over her shoulder on the way to the lavatory, "Ha!"

When she exited a short while later, he said dryly, "You used to laugh at my humour. Is the honeymoon over?"

She kissed him long and hard. "It will never be over." Moving to the bed, she kicked off her shoes and pulled off her jumper. "If you want me to prove it right now," she said while falling back onto the mattress, "I--what the Hades?" The bed had creaked...loudly. Eris moved back and forth. The squeaks were terrible. She began giggling. "Oh gods, could you imagine hearing this below?"

He enjoyed her motions, but the noise was even worse than fingernails on a blackboard. A wave of his wand eliminated the creaking, but the giggling continued. Severus took a seat by the window and bent to remove his shoes. Socks followed. Unbuttoning his shirt, he proposed, "If you transfigure the bed, we can...test...the strength of my spell."

"Is that what you're calling it now?" Eris laughed and tossed him a brushing/flossing mint. Hopping off the single bed and opening the trunk to find her wand, she said, "I chewed two, thanks to the sardines."

Huffing with amusement, he said, "It could have been tuna."

She shrugged. "As long as it's packed in water, not oil, I'll eat it and just keep chewing mints."

"You have my sincerest thanks."

After the bed was enlarged and made with new linens, his partner slid her arms around his waist and said, "Words are nice, but I'd rather you _show _me how thankful you are."

He demonstrated his gratitude for her love and support in ways that led to the most pleasant of exhaustion. The next morning, he was still deep asleep when his mother knocked on the door.

Bolting upright, he called out in a voice rough with sleep, "What?"

"It's gone nine, Severus, and I need your help to set up my stall at the Festival."

Rubbing a hand across his bleary eyes, he watched Eris wake and stretch beside him and said distractedly, "Festival?"

Eileen's voice turned waspish. "Yes, Severus, the market I sell my soaps at every Christmas. I told you in the last letter that my usual help had a family emergency. You agreed..."

"Yes, yes, I will be down in a half-hour," he replied dismissively.

When his mother left them in peace, Eris said, "How can we be ready in a half-hour?"

He pulled her off the bed and toward the lavatory. "We share a shower."

Forty minutes later, he sat down to breakfast and rubbed his sore shoulder, contemplating whether Eris could enlarge the shower without damaging the plumbing.

"Did you have a bad night? You still look a bit tired."

He accepted a mug of coffee and shook his head. "I am fine." Taking a bite of toast, he said, "Tell me about this festival. A bunch of Muggles out to buy gifts they cannot afford for people who do not deserve them, I suppose." Resignedly, he asked, "Who looks after Father while you're gone and how long do you run the stall?"

"I pay old Mrs. Nesmith from next door and I run the stall eleven to six. The Festival is Dickensian, so your wizard cloak, along with your grandfather's top hat, will suffice as a costume."

"You wear a _costume_?"

A slight blush coloured his mother's pale cheeks. "Yes, the entire village transforms every year at Christmas, and the vendors as well as entertainers dress in costume." Her lips curved. "I chose a dress that reminded me of an old professor. Hogwarts always seems to pick the Victorian headmistress type for Transfiguration, don't they?"

"Indeed." He glanced down to find that his partner had paused eating a kipper to stare at him. Defensively, he muttered, "It is only the truth. McGonagall might not have rapped anyone's knuckles, but I bet she would have liked to!"

"You don't have to convince me. I agree wholeheartedly," Eileen said, rising to begin clearing the dishes.

He hastily finished his breakfast. In his mother's current state, she might snatch his food away half-eaten. Severus had never seen her so...energetic...before. It was disconcerting.

"If you're done, I'll just take that, dear."

Raising a brow as his plate was whisked away, he said, "I am now."

"Good, you can chew a mint, go to the lavatory, and we'll be off."

He stood and looked down his nose at the managing female. "Mother, I have not needed such reminders since I was five."

She looked mortified. "Of course not. It is all the excitement. Forgive me."

When he turned to leave the room, she said, "If you're going to use the downstairs lav, the mints are in a tin beneath the sink."

Severus gritted his teeth and nodded, managing to say respectfully, "Let my cat out, if you please."

Returning to the kitchen, he stood in the doorway and watched his mother finish tying a red ribbon around Epis' neck. She said, "Doesn't she look like Christmas?"

"Quite." The cat darted over to twine around his ankles, purring. He bent to scratch behind her ears, asking his mother, "What do I need to carry?"

Severus ended up carrying an enchanted box that contained wares that would fill a dozen of the Muggle variety. It was bulky, but due to the featherweight spell, not a burden. Eileen carried a picnic basket and Epis, who had mewed piteously when the woman suggested the cat stay behind.

They travelled by Floo to a village in the Yorkshire Dales. When pressed, Severus grudgingly agreed with his mother that it was festive. Secretly, he felt the meagre appeal ruined by the presence of Muggles. They were everywhere. Throngs of them crowded the streets and square, gaping at the strolling musicians and entertainers or shopping.

One woman had the effrontery to step in front of them and say, "Are you supposed to be young Ebenezer and his mother? You're just like I always imagined him. May I take a picture?"

"No."

The Muggle's face fell. He would've smirked, but his mother whispered 'Severus, be civil', so instead he used an excuse learnt in Muggle Studies. "I am allergic."

"Grace, have you ever heard of that?" the woman exclaimed to her companion, who shook her head.

"No, Sunny, I haven't."

Turning back to him, the camera-wielding Muggle said, "Are you sure?"

A quote from the one of the few Muggle novels he'd almost enjoyed came to mind. He smiled unpleasantly. "If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about asking to take pictures should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should!""

"Oh!" the women gasped, as onlookers spontaneously applauded. "Bah Humbug!" he responded, and pushed through the crowd.

His mother caught up and took his arm. She was smiling. "You made quite an impression back there."

"Did I?"

"Yes. I expect business to double because of it."

The idea seemed ludicrous to Severus, but he made no comment other than to ask the precise location of the stall. It was situated between a local potter's and that of a woman who sold sachets and dried flowers. After setting up, he was surprised to find that his mother's "all-natural, hand-crafted" soaps did a brisk trade. While she attended customers, he kept the display stocked and endured numerous stares from passers by.

As the hours passed, he became envious of his partner. Unlike him, she only had to be admired by the children whose mothers took their time choosing soap. He was subjected to endless prattle.

_You're tall._

_Are you really Scrooge?_

_Is your hair like that all the time, or 'cause they didn't have shampoo in olden days?_

Even his most curt and snide answers failed to quell the impertinent. Customers and their children left smiling over his 'amazing portrayal.'

He shook his head in disgust. Muggles were daft. His resemblance to a literary character could hardly be _that _striking.

In the afternoon, his mother encouraged him to take a break. When he assured her he did not wish to view any more of the Festival, she reminded him that his pet likely needed to 'stretch her legs.' He reluctantly agreed.

Walking through the crowd once again, he discovered the Muggles had increased in number since the morning. They strolled casually when he wanted to stride quickly and seldom watched where they were going. An un-occupied stretch of grass was hard to find. Overall, the outing was vexing in the extreme. Returning to the stall, he told his partner unequivocally, "If you need to _stretch your legs_ again, I'm conjuring a litter box."

By the end of the day, Eileen had sold three quarters of her stock. She was pleased at the prospect of not operating her stall the following day. "We can spend Christmas Eve however you'd like," she said in a satisfied tone.

"Then we'll stay home reading books and brewing potions."

"If that's what you'd prefer."

Glancing at his partner, Severus amended, "Perhaps we could walk downtown and view the lights tomorrow night."

"You always did love fairy lights." Smiling wistfully, Eileen shared, "I tried to hang some up in your room one year, but your father tore them down. He's always hated Christmas."

Severus waited until they had returned to the house and Mrs. Nesmith had departed to ask, "I have heard you say father despises this time of year many times, but you have never said why. Is there a reason he hates Christmas?"

His mother looked toward the stairs and gestured to the kitchen. Inside, she applied a warming charm to the pot of soup she had conjured earlier and then turned to face him. When she didn't speak, Severus jibed, "My birthday is not until January, so I cannot be held to blame."

"You're not, dear. I am." Her smile was brief and bitter. "Tobias and I were married on Christmas Day."

He felt a chill shudder through him.

"What can I say to explain?" she asked.

"Nothing. I want to see it." Severus turned to leave.

"Where are you going?"

He said without stopping, "The library."

Severus swept out of the kitchen and down the corridor. The answers he wanted, his mother could no longer supply. The reason for the marked difference in her appearance and personality was obvious now. She had extracted her most painful memories and deposited them into Grandfather's Pensieve.

The bowl sat on the desk, cloud-like strands of thought obscuring the runes cut into the stone. Silvery-white, the glowing thoughts swirled lazily until he touched them with his wand to search for what he wanted. The wisps became dervishes, transforming the bottom of the bowl into a window. Severus wanted more than a glimpse into the past, so he ignored his mother's pleading and bent to immerse his face and self into a memory.

-

_He was in a Muggle chapel of some kind. It was decorated with candles and greenery for Christmas. A couple stood before a clergyman, speaking vows. Severus almost did not recognise them. His father was young and startlingly handsome. His mother had a blush on her cheeks and love in her eyes. She looked almost attractive. After the couple was pronounced husband and wife, the old cleric shuffled off, leaving the pair kissing passionately. _

_Tobias held his new wife's face in his hands and said, "I'm the luckiest man alive. How could a mill-owner's daughter compare to a wizard's daughter? I can barely remember what Claudia looked like. You're all I think about, all I'll ever need." Laughing, he said, "Happy Christmas, Mrs. Snape!" _

_"Happy Christmas, Mr. Snape. Shall we drink a toast?"_

_Severus walked up to his mother and saw her add something to his father's champagne while the man was signing the register. Stomach twisting, he watched her hand it to her husband with a determined smile before picking up the Muggle quill and signing her name. She then touched her glass to Tobias'._

_-_

He was pulled out of the memory by his mother's hand. It gripped his arm tightly.

"I never wanted you to see that," she said dully, fingers releasing their hold on his sleeve.

Severus placed his hands on her thin shoulders. "I always suspected you had entranced him, Mother." Her mouth twisted in pained acknowledgement. His lips tightened into a thin line. "What I had not known was the true reason for Father's bitterness."

"It was my misuse of..."

"No. It was not." Leaning down, he softly kissed his mother's cheek. "Keep Epis with you."

"What are you going to do?" she asked as he made to leave the room.

He paused in the doorway. "I am going to have a talk with Father."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: Sleigh-bells ring, but Severus isn't listening! He's got other things on his mind that brings a whole new meaning to "Counting down to Christmas." The Dickensean Christmas Festival was based on one held in the village of Grassington, near Skipton in the Yorkshire Dales. Sounded like fun to me, but I could easily imagine Severus quoting Scrooge! The wonderful readers who counted as blessings with their reviews last chap were…♥ **40/16 **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** Dipper **♥** ElspethBates **♥ **FNP **♥** GraceRichie **♥ **katieweasley**♥** Libeku Taganashi **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **NazgulGirl **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **Slytherin Love Goddess** ♥ **and **♥ **sunny9847 **♥


	6. Father Christmas

Chapter 6- Father Christmas

-

Severus forced himself to keep a steady pace, although his natural inclination was to slow as he approached his father's bedchamber. As a child, he had all but dragged his feet in order to postpone an interview with his sire. When he matured, he realised Tobias gained pleasure from his hesitance and vowed never to provide that satisfaction again.

"Come in, boy."

The raspy command induced Severus to linger in the doorway. From his bed, Tobias made a huffing sound. Was it amusement? The son took his time noting all the changes time and illness had wrought.

"I look almost as ugly as you now, don't I?"

His father's tone was wry instead of bitter. Must be the potion talking. Inwardly relieved at the man's comparative docility, Severus answered, "We will never resemble one another."

"Thankfully. If you didn't have my father's greasy hair and pointy ears, I'd think your mother made a cuckold of me."

Severus stepped into the room and sat in the chair furthest from the bed. He repressed the urge to touch his ear. Even if wizards did not favour long hair as a rule, he would have allowed his to grow to cover what his father had always ridiculed.

Not everyone thought his ears 'abnormal' or 'freakishly elfish', however. Eris was fond of tracing his skin with her lips and tongue, breathily calling the shape _sexy_. The memory caused him to smirk.

"Like the idea of another father, eh? Too bad for both of us it isn't true."

Severus' eyes narrowed in warning. "Mother has always been faithful. I doubt you can say the same."

Tobias' gaze shifted to the side. What was he trying to hide? The son waited until his father glanced back and then delved into his mind, finding memories that shocked.

-

_In a smoky tavern, a woman clutched Tobias' sleeve, pleading, "Don't you understand, it doesn't matter if we're both married, we can still be together."_

_"No we can't." Face twisted with angry disbelief, the young man pried her hand off and stepped back, saying, "Damn that witch to hell, I don't want you, Claudia."_

_The scene changed abruptly. _

_Tobias slammed the front door and stalked to the kitchen, demanding of his mother-in-law, "Where is she?" _

_"The library."_

_The door was ajar. He kicked it open, enjoying the alarm and distaste on his normally stoic father-in-law's face. Tobias yanked his wide-eyed wife out of her chair and pulled her toward the door. _

_"What do you think you are doing?" demanded the wizard rising from his chair. His face was red with indignation._

_Tobias' features were distorted by a sneer. "If you're lucky, old man, I'll be making you a grandfather."_

_-_

Severus cut off the connection before he was forced to witness even more disturbing images. Lying against his pillows, his father laughed unpleasantly. "Why stop there? Is the thought of your sainted mother copulating with a filthy Muggle too upsetting? What twists your knickers tighter, I wonder. The fact that she did it more than once or that _she_ _enjoyed it?_"

Upper lip curling, Severus retorted, "I am not half as troubled as you are. Tell me, Father, are you ashamed of your feelings for your wife?"

"I never had feelings," Tobias shot back. "I was entranced by a witch."

"She stopped giving you the potion and you still chose to stay."

"Eileen tricked me."

Severus looked into eyes black as his own and said, "You fooled yourself." His father shook his head weakly, but an image drawn up from the recess of memory told a different tale.

-

_Tobias prowled around the cellar lab. He picked things up and examining them curiously, asking, "This Potions Master thing you talked about. What good will it do us?"_

_Eileen stirred a cauldron. "I could teach at Hogwarts."_

_"Teacher pay is shite. You'd make more selling soap at craft fairs. Will it teach you to transform lead into gold?"_

_"No."_

_"Gain power?"_

_"Probably not."_

_Tobias strolled over and slid his hands around his pregnant wife's waist. "Then I say forget about it and think of something else to make our dreams come true."_

_Eileen's expression was a mixture of joy and pain. "My dream already came true."_

_-_

Severus jerked his eyes away from his father's gaze. The ambition he'd heard in Tobias' voice was eerily familiar. He scowled. "You expected my mother to wave her magic wand and give you a life of luxury. When she did not, you spent the rest of your life making her miserable for it."

"She made my life misery!"

"No, _you _made your life a misery." Severus rose and looked down his nose at the pathetic creature on the bed. "You were too lazy to work for what you wanted. You preferred to drink and blame your wife and child for...what exactly, Father? Depriving you of the life you believed a handsome face entitled you to become accustomed to?"

"Get out!"

"I will leave, and I will not return." Severus bent over the bed, his voice a deadly whisper. "I did not come here seeking reconciliation. You have been nothing but a bane in my life. I came for Mother. She deserves kindness at this hour, and if you wish to have anyone mourn your passing, _Father, _I would see that she gets it."

"_Get OUT!"_

Severus closed the door silently, knowing it would further enrage.

"What did you say to him?"

He turned to face his mother. The cat she was holding wriggled free and ran up the stairs to the attic. Severus exhaled sharply. "The truth."

"_Eileen!"_

It was painful to watch his mother's face soften, to know that she still cared for a man who deserved only loathing. He said, "Go. I will be in my room, and I do not wish to be disturbed."

She smiled slightly and reached for the door handle.

He strode to the staircase.

Inside the attic bedroom, Eris was waiting. She wrapped her arms around him. "Are you all right? I was afraid he'd say something vile to hurt..."

"He cannot hurt me," Severus interjected. "I ceased caring about that man's opinion long ago. I spoke to him only for Mother's sake, I assure you." He raised his hand to brush back her hair and was astounded to see his fingers trembling. It was a reaction to the heat of argument. That was the only rational explanation.

"Oh, Severus."

For some unfathomable reason, he could not abide that note of sympathy in her voice. He did not require a shoulder to cry on—he would not be pitied. Severus lowered his mouth to Eris'. If she wanted to make him feel better, he knew exactly how she could do it. His kisses were not tender, but his partner did not complain about his voracity. Her lips and body moved against his in eager acceptance. He swirled his tongue between her teeth. She pressed closer.

Severus lifted Eris and carried her to the bed, enjoying the way her fingers tugged at the fastenings of his clothing. He returned the favour, determined to feel skin against skin as soon as possible.

"I love you," she said on a moan. He hoarsely returned the sentiment before continuing his exploration. Severus did not want to think about his parents. He didn't want to think at all. He needed only to feel Eris' hair sliding through his fingers and across his skin, her hands rousing him to passion. He wanted nothing more than to immerse himself in her body and her love and forget all else.

-

When Severus finally awoke on Christmas Eve, the sun was streaming through the windows and his eyelids felt glued together. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and gazed at Eris. She was curled on her side, sound asleep. There were shadows beneath her eyes. He felt smug and remorseful at the same time.

After pulling up the duvet to cover his partner, he headed for the lavatory. Inside, Severus looked up at the showerhead that was no longer a potential source of injury and chuckled. Necessity really was the mother of invention. He engaged the hot water charm and counted showering with Eris without pain worth the cost of decreased water pressure.

In the kitchen, he greeted his mother and sat at the table, reaching for the _Daily Prophet_. It was folded so crisply, Severus knew it had not been read. Before his apprenticeship, such an occurrence had been a rare pleasure. His mother usually received the _Prophet_ second hand, from a friend. "Thank you for the paper."

Eileen smiled, but did not meet his gaze more than briefly. He supposed she was embarrassed over his discoveries about her past. She served him coffee along with a plate of eggs and sausages before sitting down with a cup of tea.

Severus offered his mother the unwanted Arts section, smiling fleetingly in response to her dry thanks. He read an article detailing yet another 'mysterious death' and felt his respect for the press drop to a new low. There was nothing mysterious about any of the deaths reported repeatedly. They were executions, carried out by those loyal to Lord Voldemort.

When he finished breakfast, Severus carried his plate to the sink. His mother lifted a brow when he began clearing the dishes, but did not stand. He snickered inwardly. If she had enquired, he would have claimed Christmas spirit.

"What would you like to do today?" asked Eileen, when the kitchen was set to rights and silence hung in the air.

Severus answered, "I would like us to brew a potion together."

Her eyes looked unusually bright. "Any particular one, dear?"

His mother's tone reminded him of Christmases long ago, when she would sit on his bed and ask which of the few gifts he would like to open first. He had taken her caring for granted then. Severus did so no longer. A smile flickered across his face. "The Draught of Peace."

"That's a difficult potion," she replied with a faint smile.

He nodded. "Are your skills too rusty for the challenge?"

Eileen's smile widened, displaying the slightly crooked teeth she normally concealed. "I weigh ingredients exactly and crush them precisely every time I make a batch of soap." She frowned. "I don't have any powdered moonstone, though, and that cannot be substituted, if I am not mistaken."

Severus looked down at his fingernails. They were much improved since Eris had taken charge of his manicure. She claimed to enjoy pampering him, so he allowed it, since he enjoyed being pampered. He said off-handed, "I brought the ingredients."

"Oh." After a heavy pause, his mother asked, "How do you intend to use the draught?"

"Not to send Father into an irreversible sleep." He dropped the sarcasm to add, "I thought a solution to calm anxiety and soothe agitation would be beneficial to have on hand when he...is no longer with you."

Eileen said in a small voice, "That was very thoughtful of you, Severus. I'm sure the draught will be a comfort in trying times."

He nodded and excused himself to go upstairs and retrieve the ingredients. On the way, he heard his father call out, "Eileen, is that you? I'm bored. Come read to me."

Severus' lips curled as he performed a nonverbal muting charm. For the next few hours, his mother was going to be free of her parasitical spouse. Relishing the silence that fell, he continued up the steps.

He had opened the trunk and lifted out the box containing his stores of ingredients when a sleepy voice asked, "What are you and Eileen going to brew?"

Severus crossed over to the bed, placing the intricately carved box on the floor before leaning down to kiss his partner. "The Draught of Peace. Mother feared I was going to drop extra hellebore into the cauldron and aid Father in reaching eternal slumber, but I reassured her I intended it for medicinal purposes only."

Eris arched her back like a cat as she stretched and smiled. "You're a good son." She pulled him down for another kiss. "And a wonderful lover."

He shook his head. "An inconsiderate one, to keep you awake all night."

She giggled. "Are you saying that wasn't an early Christmas present?"

"Yours to me, perhaps."

"It was mutual, and I loved it." Eris sat up and hugged him close. "I love you."

He smiled against her hair. "Our feelings are mutual." Severus drew back and asked, "Are you hungry? What shall I leave for you in the kitchen?"

Eris said laughingly, "Anything edible will be fine, but if it's tuna, be sure to crack the door to the downstairs lav. I'll need those brushing/flossing mints under the sink."

Severus kissed her cheek. "Thank you." He meant the words in more ways than he could enumerate.

She blew him a kiss. "I'll see you later, love."

-

His mother was examining a cauldron when he joined her in the cellar. "I haven't brewed a potion in months, not since the Draught of Docility. I wanted to make sure it had been cleaned properly." She nodded toward the brass scales on a worktable. "If you'd like to begin, I'll give this another scrub just to be sure."

"I will assemble the ingredients," he said, placing his box on the wooden table he had utilised so many times in the past. Severus opened the lid and began removing jars and vials.

Eileen finished her task and eyed his stores appreciatively. "What a grand selection you have. Mandrake root, salamander wool, boomslang skin—some of the items are very costly." She lifted a jar for closer examination. "Was this box a present from Eris?"

He fixed his gaze on the container filled with lacewing flies. "Yes."

"She must have loved you very much."

His posture stiffened. "I prefer not to speak of it."

"Very well, shall I measure out the dried nettles?"

Severus nodded and conjured a flame beneath the cauldron. They worked together harmoniously, making succinct comments now and then. He admired the way his mother lowered the flames with a wave of her fingers and was unerringly meticulous in her work. Time passed pleasantly. They exchanged looks of satisfaction when silvery vapours rose from the cauldron. Eileen handed him a flagon. He filled it and chuckled when she affixed a soap label on the side.

A yowl-scream impelled Severus to plunk down the flagon and head for the stairs. In the kitchen, Epis meowed frantically, her ears flattened against the side of her head. He rushed toward her. She turned and darted out of the room. His heart jolted. "Mother! Come quickly!"

"I'm here, son."

They followed the Siamese up to Tobias' room. When Severus opened the door, his father was shaking his head in wonder. "The cat pushed through a gap in the door, took one look at me and bolted. That is the smartest animal I ever..." He broke off to close his eyes and gasp for breath. Faintly, he said, "I...I'm not feeling well, Eileen. Don't leave me."

She rushed to her husband's side, kneeling on the floor to hold his hand. "I won't."

Severus backed away. "I will go prepare tea."

Out in the corridor, his partner's eyes were dilated with fear. He scooped her up and began petting her soothingly. "He is still alive. I am to make tea, which Father will likely make Mother drink before it passes his lips." He brushed a kiss across the top of her head, murmuring, "I would never choose such a mundane way to poison."

After delivering the tea tray, he sat in the library with Epis on his lap and read a tome on the rise and fall of potions making in the Roman Empire. Occasionally he would read a passage aloud, but the text was rather dull, overall. It merely served its purpose to keep his mind off the couple upstairs. His partner helped too, simply by being there.

When the sun began to set, he tapped on the door of his father's chamber. Eileen opened it, her face taut with the strain of Tobias' failing health. Severus cleared his throat. "I am going out for a short walk to see the lights and purchase dinner. Does Father still enjoy Chinese?"

Inside the room, his father called, "Want to feed the condemned man his last meal, eh? Don't get anything spicy, or any of those damned fortune cookies. I already know my future."

Eileen patted Severus' arm. "Thank you."

He inclined his head and left the house with a Disillusionment charmed companion. She stayed close behind him, blending into his cloak, invisible to the last-minute shoppers around them. Privately, Severus acknowledged that the fairy lights strung from streetlights and around shop windows were a festive sight. He would never go so far as to exclaim over them like his partner, but they had a simple appeal.

Surprisingly, he was not the only customer of the Happy Wok. Standing in the queue, he debated what to order until Eris whispered, "The Peking style set dinner looks good, and there should be enough food if...for some reason...your mum doesn't want to cook tomorrow."

He took her advice. The seaweed did not entice, but the thought of spare ribs and Satay chicken, along with prawns and several other dishes made his stomach rumble.

They returned to Spinner's End and fixed two trays. Severus refrained from adding spicy Szechuen-style beef to his father's plate and delivered it to his mother.

"Did the boy get any sweet-and-sour pork? I don't want anything but sweet-and-sour pork."

Severus rolled his eyes. His tone was sardonic, "Yes, Father. Happy Christmas."

His mother smiled. "Happy Christmas, dear." She shut the door on Tobias' 'Bah! Humbug!'

Irritating his father put Severus in the holiday mood. He whistled a carol on his way up the stairs.

"God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs? I've always liked that one too!" said Eris as he closed the door. She waved him over to a table set with porcelain and silver and decorated with a touch of greenery. "If you'll pour the wine, I'll light the candles."

Dinner was enjoyable and the gift exchange afterwards even more so. With Catrin Ap Meurig's aid, Eris had given him a vial of powdered horn of a bicorn and a pair of dragon hide gloves. He watched her open a small box and smiled when she exclaimed over the silver ring inside, "A Celtic love-knot, how romantic!"

"Supposedly the knot symbolises lovers' lives intertwining and becoming one."

"It's beautiful."

He shrugged. "It is not a diamond."

"I don't want diamonds."

Severus was touched that she meant it. He lifted her hand to kiss it, palm and back.

Eris traced the love knot with a fingertip. "The letter Rhys arranged to send my mother from South Africa should have arrived by now. I hope she finally understands that I'm happy with my choice and I'm not coming back."

He tried to say lightly, "Do not be surprised if we get a letter from Tom saying he is off to Johannesburg."

Her blue eyes were rueful. "Knowing they haven't given up the search makes me happy and sad all at once. Is that mental?"

"No. It is perfectly understandable." To change the subject, he snapped his fingers, saying, "I forgot something." He opened the trunk and held out a small gift. "For Epis."

"Catnip?"

"Open and see."

She unfastened the paper and lifted out the pendant dangling from a sapphire blue ribbon. It was a perfect match for the other tag, except that on the back of this silver oval was engraved, _Companion of Severus Snape._

"I do not own you, and you belong with me, not to me, so I thought companion a fitting description. Do you like it?"

Eris responded by throwing herself into his arms and kissing him breathless.

-

In the middle of the night, a knock on the door brought Severus bolting upright. Eris sat up and caressed his cheek. "Answer it while I transform." By rote, he pulled on trousers and a shirt.

His mother's face was pale, her gaze dull. "He's gone. Tobias is gone."

Severus put his arms around his mother and felt her quivering. "Let me bring you a Draught."

"After I make arrangements," she said tonelessly. "Tobias had it all planned out. I have only to walk to the call box and phone the Muggle authorities."

A cold chill travelled down his spine. "Not a...burial?" She nodded. He shook his head. "Mother, no, not that. Rumours of Inferi walking the earth are not old wives' tales. They are true."

The mention of corpses bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding caused Eileen to shudder. "No, I couldn't bear it. Muggles have another custom that will suffice."

Severus had heard of cremation. He did not look forward to seeing an urn with his father's ashes grace the mantel in the parlour, but it was far better than possibly facing the man's corpse one day.

"Will you...sit with him...while I make the call?"

He asked, "Would you not prefer me to make the call instead?" His stomach twisted when she shook her head. Swallowing hard, he nodded. By concentrating on taking one step at a time, he made it to his father's door. Gritting his teeth, Severus forced himself to take the final steps into the room.

"Mew."

He sat in the same chair he had before, absently stroking the feline purring her distress on his behalf. Severus contemplated the shell that had once affected his life so greatly and experienced a total absence of emotion. He felt no satisfaction that Tobias would leech off his wife no longer. No pleasure that the sneering voice was silenced forever. There was no sadness that he had never had a relationship with his father other than adversarial. He felt no wistful regret that they had not reconciled at the end.

"Mew?"

The enquiring sound brought his gaze down to blue, almond-shaped eyes. "I feel nothing," he said, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards when she rubbed her nose against his hand. He resumed petting her, staring at Tobias' corpse, waiting for Muggles to arrive and cart it out of the house.

-

Hours later, when his mother was resting after taking a full-strength draught, Severus returned to his bed. He lay on his side, Eris' warmth pressed against his back, her body shaking with silent tears, fingers stroking him much the same way he had done to her earlier. His throat ached, his eyes burned, and his chest hurt as though a great weight was placed upon it.

Severus rigidly stared into the darkness and fought back moisture that threatened to spill down his face. He would not cry. He felt nothing.

-

Christmas Day was spent clearing out Tobias' chamber. Severus placed a box of mementoes in his mother's room and locomotered several more to the attics. While the widow rested, Eris transfigured the furniture into a style Eileen had once admired. By the time they were through, all traces of his father had vanished.

Mother admired 'his' spellwork and then rushed from the room in tears.

Two days later, he stood by his mother's side during a Muggle memorial service. The small group of Tobias' associates from various local drinking establishments offered their condolences and consistently praised 'Toby' for being a generous mate. Severus endured them in silence for Eileen's sake.

Eris' comforting presence made the days bearable, yet Severus breathed a sigh of relief when the day came to return to Wales. After the trunk was packed and his partner resumed her Animagus form, he went to say goodbye to his mother.

"Come in, dear."

Eileen looked thin and frail, lying in bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress and said, "You must visit me in Wales."

She clasped his hand. "I would like that." When he bent down to kiss her cheek, his mother said, "I hesitated whether or not to broach the subject, but feel I must." He looked down at her in concern. She half smiled. "I will be proud to be your Secret Keeper."

He drew back sharply. "What do you mean?"

Unexpectedly, his mother's cheeks became tinted with pink. She pointed. "Do you see that ceiling fixture?"

His gaze went to the only feminine touch in the room. A mini chandelier held an illumination orb suspended over the centre of the chamber. Teardrop shaped crystal accents dangled from the Italianate scrollwork. He frowned. "Yes."

"This room is directly beneath the attics. I heard nothing, but those crystals did not shake themselves, dear. Either you brought a poltergeist with you, or a partner."

Severus opened his mouth, but could not speak. How had that fixture not crashed to the floor, and how in Merlin's name had the woman slept?

"I didn't want to embarrass you, son. I'm glad that you have someone who loves you so much. I won't worry about you being lonely, and I know Eris will take good care of you."

He abruptly realised the true reason his mother had not met his gaze in the kitchen Christmas Eve. Now Severus was the one to avoid eye contact. He looked down at the fingers holding his and said gruffly, "She does."

After he performed the ritual spell to make Eileen his Secret Keeper, Severus said his farewell and headed for the door.

"Give Eris my best, and... about the chandelier... I consider that part of our secret."

He paused in the doorway to say with heartfelt appreciation, "Thank you, Mother."

-

* * *

- 

A/N: "Father Christmas, Father Christmas , He's the meanest man in the whole wide world, in the whole wide world , you can feel it!" LOL. Urchins sing that to Scrooge in the musical from the seventies (I just learnt that, doing a google to be sure I had the words right, since I've only seen the Albert Finney/film version on cable. :D ) Couldn't help but sing it this week, especially the end, "We should all send Father Christmas, on his merry Christmas way!" There's something about Christmas chapters. My Moonlight one is even longer, so I guess I'm the type who goes all out at the holidays. The readers whose reviews made going all out to write a story a joy last chap were...…♥ **40/16 **♥** cat **♥ **cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley **♥** Dipper **♥** ElspethBates **♥ **Emmas Padawon**♥ **FNP **♥** GraceRichie **♥** Libeku Taganashi **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles **♥ **NazgulGirl **♥** Silverlake **♥ **Slipknot-3113** ♥ **sunny9847 **♥ **and **♥ **The Ravishing Enchantress **♥


	7. Birthday Boy

Chapter 7- Birthday Boy

-

_The boy sat in a long-abandoned potting shed in the back garden, reading the book his mother had given him at breakfast. Magical Drafts and Potions should have engrossed utterly, but it did not. He blamed whatever person had inconsiderately left a window open so the shrieking, laughing, and clapping sounds emanating from the house behind him were inflicted upon anyone within hearing. _

_His Muggle neighbour was having a birthday party. _

_"Stupid custom," the boy muttered, huddled inside his cloak. The January day was bitterly cold. He had cast a warming charm with the wand borrowed from his mother, but it only raised the temperature to above freezing. He was better with hexes._

_Music drifted in. It was a song that had never been sung in the Snape household. The boy scowled at the off-key rendition and told himself he was heartily thankful for that. He imagined children gathered around a boy, waiting for him to blow out a candle on a birthday cake and open presents. His upper lip curled. They would be Muggle ones, inferior to his text, which would give him an advantage over the other students when he went to Hogwarts. _

_The clamour died down and the boy returned to his studies, unconsciously humming part of the tune he had derided. It was his birthday too. _

_Severus was ten years old. _

_-_

A soft kiss brought him out of the dream. "Happy Birthday," Eris greeted when Severus opened his eyes. He blinked. Yes, today was January seventh.

"I have to give you nineteen kisses and one to grow on," his partner said with a smile, kissing his cheek before brushing her lips over what seemed like every part of his face.

He enjoyed the affection, even if he believed such fuss unnecessary. The twentieth kiss was pressed to his lips and lingered in such a way that he impulsively rolled Eris onto her back and murmured, "I see a present I wish to open right now."

_Knock, Knock, Knock!_

His ferocious scowl made Eris giggle. "Best answer it, love. I don't think they're going away."

He rolled off the bed and pulled on pyjama bottoms and a robe, grumbling, "Cannot a man be left in peace on his birthday?" Severus opened his door with a grudging, "_Bore da_, good morning, Master Ap Meurig."

"_Penblwydd Hapus!"_ said the wizard, beaming at his apprentice.

"Thank you," returned Severus, thinking his birthday happiness would increase tenfold if he was left alone with his partner.

"_Croeso i chwi, _you're welcome," said Mordred, before turning and calling, "Hurry up with that tray, Gruffydd!"

"_Vn gyflym_, _Vn glflym, _quickly, he says, as if my old bones are not performing miracles to move at a steady pace," the retainer complained as he shuffled toward them. He thrust a breakfast tray at Severus with a brusque, "_Penblwydd Hapus_."

"_Diolch_."

"Thank me by returning your tray to the kitchen."

Shaking his head at his departing servant, Mordred gestured to the tray. "I ordered an English breakfast for you."

"Gruffydd prepared it?" asked Severus.

"_Nage_! No, I had him go to the village to get it."

"I appreciate the gesture."

Mordred waved him to silence. "This is nothing. Today, I am taking you to visit an old friend of mine. We depart at noon. Enjoy your breakfast!"

"Sir," the apprentice called.

The master turned. "Yes?"

Severus had to swallow a mix of pride and chagrin to ask, "May I bring my cat?"

The old wizard's eyes twinkled. "Of course. It is your birthday!"

After Severus returned to his chamber and reactivated the wards, he lifted the cover off the plate on the tray and grimaced. There were eggs, bacon, sausages and tomatoes covered in a film of congealed fat. Even the toast looked greasy.

He set the tray on the floor for his partner to inspect. The Siamese gingerly touched the yolk of an egg with the tip of a claw and sprang away when it jiggled. Transforming back to her human form, Eris shuddered. "Good thing I'd already planned to serve you breakfast in bed."

Severus quickly strode to the bedside, removing his robe and arranging the pillows to his satisfaction. Propped up, he took the tray Eris offered. "Share it with me."

She sat beside him and watched expectantly as he lifted the stasis cover to reveal creamy scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and soft, toasted muffins. Severus looked from the food to his partner. "This is what we had that first morning." Eris' smile was so radiant he felt his own lips turn up in response. Raising a brow, he asked, "Will we be re-enacting that morning in its entirety?"

It amazed him that she could still blush. Almost shyly, she nodded. "It _is _your birthday."

-

Hours later, Severus was not in the mood for a jaunt with Ap Meurig. He would rather go back to sleep. The managing female that callously woke him from his nap and prodded him toward the shower only a short while earlier now mewed softly. He looked down and frowned. "Do not think to sway me with kitten eyes."

"Mew."

He sighed heavily and bent to pick 'Epis' up. "Very well. All is forgiven." He petted her, enjoying the downy soft hair as much as her contented purrs. In the kitchen, Gruffydd was feeding treats to a pair of owls on the wide stone sill.

"For you, Apprentice," the man said, jerking his head toward the worktable.

Upon the table lay a trio of envelopes. The first one was from his mother, who wrote,

**Dear Severus, **

**Our family has never truly celebrated birthdays. Your grandfather considered them trivial and your father spent any money he had on himself. This winter has been such a time of change I decided to alter that. Enjoy yourself on your birthday.**

**Sincerely,**

**Mother**

The ending salutation flabbergasted Severus almost as much as the Gringotts bank draft enclosed in the envelope. What would she write next time, 'your loving mother'? He stared blankly at the parchment, astonished the idea was welcome. Another envelope caught his eye. It had watermarks and smudges around the edges. The letter was from Tom.

**S**

**Hows tha bin, Tyke. 'Ow are things with Meurig? I can just picture you shaking your head in disgust over my Yorksher. Damn, you're ugly. How are you ever going to get a bird looking like ruddy great bat? **

**My own bird has been trying to hen peck me, demanding I write constantly and threatening violence if I so much as look at another woman. Claire really is amusing. She might strike lucky and become Mrs. Tom Wilkes one fortunate day in her future—if she stops nagging. Does she think I'm sightseeing and not looking for Eris as hard as I can? **

**I would have dropped by our old Divination professor's and had him contact the spirits to see if she'd crossed over, or whatever the Hades he used to call it, but the stupid witch sent a letter, and now I'm off to South Africa. **

**Anyroads, Happy Birthday and here's a charm I picked up in Knockturn Alley for you. Bloke said it was from Bolivia, called it a Munanchi amulet. Take it to the pub, find a way to wrap a hair from a girl you desire around it, and who knows, you might not be a virgin come morning. **

**T**

Severus gazed down at the tiny soapstone amulet depicting an amorous couple and smirked. Perhaps he would perform a scientific experiment with one of Eris' hairs later. He placed the little charm aside and reached for the final letter. The arrogant slant to the writing identified the sender without a signature. Lucius Malfoy.

**You will be receiving a visitor shortly. I was apprised of neither the identity of your guest nor the time of the arrival, merely informed your 'progress' would be inspected by an unnamed member of the inner circle. Remember your actions reflect on me and do not fail to impress. **

There was no concern for his protégé other than how he might reflect upon his sponsor—how Malfoy. Severus shrank the letters and placed them in a secure inner pocket along with the amulet. He would face whoever came when they arrived. For now, he had a different kind of visit to endure.

The Potions Master entered the kitchen with a spring in his step. "Apprentice and familiar ready to depart?"

"She is not my familiar."

A white eyebrow lifted. "I'd not thought you the old-fashioned sort to object to the term. What do you call Epis, then?"

"My companion."

"Ah, _companion_...very nice. Come along."

Outside the Keep, Mordred took hold of Severus' forearm. "We could trek to the village, Floo to the nearest inn on the network, and then hike up to Baudwin's cottage, but it is much easier for me to Apparate us. Hold your companion securely, if you please. I would hate to have any unfortunate splinching occur."

The Siamese buried her head in the crook of Severus' elbow. Not keen on Apparating, was she? Frankly, neither was he, not that he would admit it. To admit weakness was to invite others to prey upon it. He nodded to indicate his readiness and reflexively closed his eyes.

-

Severus shook off the chill of Apparation and opened his eyes to behold a stone cottage that seemed like a hermitage, located in an even more remote part of Northern Wales than his master's keep. His partner's head was darting side to side as she took the place in. His lips curved. She probably thought the environs 'picturesque.'

"Baudwin prefers to think of himself as a retired adventurer, content in his solitude, although he regularly travels to a wizard-run pub a few leagues away," Mordred informed cheerfully, pointing to the left. "That footpath leads to a hidden garden and a waterfall."

"Hidden? From whom? Pesky neighbour children?"

The old wizard laughed at the sarcasm. "The progeny of woodland creatures is more likely, but in truth Baudwin fears fellow wizards will try and steal the rare plants he grows for his potions and so wards the path with _Confundus_ charms."

"Who goes there!" bellowed a voice fit for a giant.

"Amplifying charm," Mordred whispered out of the side of his mouth before calling, "A Potions Master and his apprentice."

The door opened. "Come in, come in, spies may be watching," urged the wizard inside the cottage.

Severus' brows rose almost to his hairline, but he followed his master down stone steps to enter the reclusive wizard's abode. The interior was warm, smelt faintly of fish, and seemed to consist of a large room with a smaller sleeping/bathing chamber to one side. Lit by the glow of the fire and enchanted torches, the cottage reminded Severus of a shop located between Diagon and Knockturn alleys. It was filled with enchanted items, jars, and flagons of mysterious potions and ingredients.

"Bledri's been on the prowl," said their host, stirring a cauldron in the fireplace anti-clockwise. The small, podgy man sidled over to the nearest window and peered outside. "Ever since I threatened to use werewolf repellent on him in the pub, he's been obsessed with trying to discover if I was bluffing or spoke true."

Bledri meant 'wolf king.' In the same manner as Lupin, the name fit the beast. Severus asked, "Have you invented werewolf repellent?"

"No, I was bluffing. I'd just beat him at cards and he was trying to _welsh_ on the bet." Baudwin grinned at Mordred who shook his head.

"You fled Brittany fifty years ago, and that joke was old then."

"I _chose_ to retire here, away from the hordes of Muggles."

"You were chased out!"

While the two old men squabbled contentedly, Severus set Epis on the floor and curiously inspected the items on a nearby shelf. An illumination orb intensified and then dimmed by the touch of a finger, a cup that filled with water when he picked it up and magically emptied when he set it back down, and a smooth, flat, stone.

"That's not for skipping, young man. That's a sun stone. It absorbs heat and then releases it at a slower gradient when temperatures cool. Excellent for keeping your feet warm at night," said Baudwin.

"So is a blanket with a warming charm, or a pair of woolly socks," said Mordred.

Baudwin frowned. "I could hurl the stone at your head if you'd prefer."

"I would not."

"Humph, that's what I ...hold on, what is it that cat's playing with?" demanded Baudwin. Epis dropped into a defensive crouch and turned big blue eyes on the wizard, who knelt down and said softly, "Bring your toy to me, kitty." He petted the Siamese who had daintily padded over with a tiny blue velvet pouch and remarked, "She's as soft as the inside of a woman's thigh."

Severus found the analogy offensive and motioned his partner to return to him. Logically, he knew petting the cat was not the same as stroking the woman, but still, he preferred not to see another man's hand on her.

Mordred asked his friend, "What woman's thigh have you been fondling, you randy old goat?"

"Not Dera Bowen's, you jealous old curmudgeon," Baudwin retorted, opening the velvet bag.

Severus remembered the witch who ran a stall at the Muggle festival and how she had smiled when saying, 'Call me Dera. Mordred does.' How remarkable that old wizards and witches retained interest in romantic activities. He looked down at Epis and smirked. The knowledge was reassuring, too.

"Is that a bluestone?" asked Mordred.

Severus walked over to see a knut-sized polished stone that brought to mind a night sky studded with stars.

"Yes, blue dolerite, from our Preseli Hills, same as that what stands at Stonehenge."

"_Our hills_, is it?"

"Leave off, old man, before I hex you." Baudwin asked the younger wizard, "Know what the clever puss found?"

"If the rock has some property other than a pleasing appearance, I am not aware of it," admitted Severus.

"An apprentice who does not claim to know it all...you are fortunate, Mordred," said Baudwin.

"The same could not be said of our Master."

Baudwin noted Severus' look of surprise and nodded. "Yes, we were Apprentices together, until I decided a life of singular study was not for me." He waved a hand at the varied disciplines of magic displayed in the cottage and said wryly, "I am Jack of all trades and master of none."

Mordred clapped his friend on the shoulder. "But you're the best Jack of all trades in the Wizarding world, and should be proud of your work."

Severus glanced around at the jumble of enchanted items, old tomes, spell books, and potions jumbled together and nodded respectfully, although he was not very impressed. It seemed like the wizard puttered around working magic randomly at whim. He did not relate to such a mindset.

Baudwin seemed pleased with the praise, smiling as he took down a jar from a shelf and handed it to Severus. "Your master asked that I teach you to make Firegel, which both protects pouches and packets from fire and, when charmed, burns anyone who touches them aside from the owner. Are you interested?"

The ointment was thick, grainy, and likely highly expensive to purchase. Severus nodded. "Very much so."

"Excellent, but before we begin, since this is your birthday..." Baudwin bent down and rubbed the bluestone along Epis' fur, chanting softly. The 'stars' in the dolerite glowed with bright intensity before abruptly fading. He placed the rock into its velvet pouch and handed it to Severus. "The Seeking Stone is now attuned to your familiar and should she ever become lost, it will lead you to her."

"Companion," corrected Severus absently, his gaze on the cat whose purrs were audible in the quiet of the cottage.

Suddenly, a hissing sound emanated from the cauldron. "Quick! Stir, Mordred, stir!"

"Is that a volatile potion, sir?" said Severus, watching Baudwin wipe sweat from his brow with a scrap of linen.

The man looked at him and laughed. "No, boy, it's our lunch. Bouillabaisse!"

-

Later that evening, Severus was surprised to receive both a small cake and a wrapped present from his partner. He had half-expected the cake, but after his Christmas presents was not expecting a gift.

"Blow out the candle and make a wish," Eris urged.

It was too undignified. He could not make himself do it. "Will you do me the honour?" he asked.

His partner smiled. "You have to make the wish, though. On three. One, two, _three_!" She blew out the candle and kissed him before placing the gift-wrapped box on his lap. "I transfigured it myself. I...I thought you could use it in your work."

He knew by her tone that she did not mean Potions. Severus was intrigued. When he lifted the deep black garment out of the box, he was speechless.

"It's a Holocaust Cloak, sometimes called a Cloak of Terror. They've been around for centuries, but are very complicated to transfigure. Most cloaks with the name don't have any magic, but I found a book in Mordred's library that detailed how to weave the spells into the fabric, so I did it for you."

Somehow, he managed to say, "Thank you."

She continued in a determinedly cheerful tone, "There's a Protection spell in the cloth. It's waterproof, fireproof, and hard to damage. There's a Concealment charm too, so you'll blend into the darkness, and when the hood is up, shadows will conceal your face."

"I don't know what to say."

Eris' smile was wobbly. "I don't need pretty words. I need you to stay safe. I can't help You-Know-Who, but I will help the man I love. That's why I added the final spell."

She looked ready to cry. He stared in concern. "What spell?"

"You can't feel it, because it's your cloak, with your hair woven into the fabric along with the spells, but everyone else will be affected, even if they don't recognise what _it _is." Eris raised her hand. It was trembling. "It's fear. The cloak radiates it and will eventually demoralise anyone who remains in close proximity."

Severus was seized with the urge to try it on. Eris rose. "I think I'll run a bath while you...check the fit..."

He waited until the lavatory door shut and then strode eagerly toward the opposite side of the room. Severus opened the door of the wardrobe and put on the cloak. In the full-length mirror, he gazed at his reflection and felt excitement rise.

His appearance was that of a wraith, a creature of darkness that would inspire fear like a Dementor. He smiled, but couldn't see it. Although his vision remained unimpaired, the hood transformed his features into impenetrable shadows. Severus chuckled darkly. He could hardly wait to try out all the properties of this marvellous gift.

Reluctantly, he returned the cloak to the box and stored it in his warded trunk. Still elated by the thought of all that he could accomplish wearing such a garment, he stripped off his clothes on the way to the lavatory and slid into the bathwater, still smiling. His partner was reclining at the other end.

"You like it, then?"

Severus reached for a bar of lavender soap. "I love it."

-

The next morning found him stalking to the door to see what catastrophe had occurred that required him to rise before dawn. Mordred greeted his scowling 'what' with a beaming, "Catrin's had the baby! It's a boy! She had little Emrys last night, but waited until this morning to owl. Didn't want to disturb my sleep." White hair shook. "As though I need sleep when there's a new Ap Meurig to greet!"

Severus was quite fond of sleep. He would have liked to resume his slumber, but his master had other ideas.

"Hurry and get dressed. Catrin and Rhys want you to come see the babe...and your companion as well! I'll meet you in the kitchen in a quarter hour."

"Yes, Master." When the door shut, he grumbled, "Why do new parents require everyone they know to come and gape at their lumpish offspring?"

"Lumpish!" Eris laughed, emerging from behind the bed curtains. "Newborns are precious and beautiful."

"They look disturbingly like little old men, and do nothing but produce cries and noxious smells."

When his partner stopped giggling, she said, "But you'll be civil and congratulate Rhys and Catrin regardless."

Were females born with managing tendencies, or was it a learned behaviour? Either way, her tone made him quip, "Yes, Mother."

She smiled apologetically. "I don't think I'll be ready to be a mother until the war is over."

He took her hands in his. "The Dark Lord fights to gain supremacy over the Wizarding world and will not cease until he triumphs. I am not blindly optimistic. We may not see peace for a very long time. Are you willing to wait years...perhaps even a decade?"

"Yes, as long as I have you."

Severus' upturned lips reflected his inner satisfaction. He said, "You have me."

-

Several unproductive hours later, he returned from the younger Ap Meurig's castle without his constantly purring partner. Catrin had wanted 'Epis' to stay awhile longer and return with Mordred after dinner. Severus had readily agreed and congratulated the couple once again before he left. It was a relief not to listen politely while the others gushed over an infant who had little to recommend him in his current stage of development.

"You have a visitor."

Severus closed the kitchen door and walked toward the retainer. "Who?"

"Didn't say, just ordered you be sent to the drawing room the moment you returned."

Severus looked into Gruffydd's eyes and 'saw' the conversation that had taken place. The visitor was arrogant and condescending. The younger man said, "Did you ask how long..."

"Overnight," answered Gruffydd.

With a brusque thank you and a request that a tea tray be delivered as soon as possible, Severus strode out of the kitchen and down the corridor. By the time he'd reached the drawing room, his thoughts were cool and controlled. Silently, he opened the door and entered the room.

He told the woman who looked up from the sofa, "Good afternoon, Bellatrix."

-

* * *

-

A/N: I found a lot of random information on the internet that helped me write this chap. The firegel and info about hedge wizards, which is what Baudwin reminded me of, were from a D&D fact sheet (Do people still play that?) The name Baudwin came from one of the later Knights of the Round Table. He was from Brittany, had been a renowned healer, and became a hermit. Emrys and Bledri were names from historical stuff I read for fun, since I didn't use it, lol, and of course Bellatrix starts with B that rhymes with T, and that stands for Trouble!


	8. Bad Moon on the Rise

Chapter 8- Bad Moon on the Rise

-

Bellatrix was not subtle. Her open robes revealed a low cut black dress with a slit to mid-thigh. She crossed her legs and said, "Hello, Severus."

Was he supposed to be tantalised by the expanse of marble-white flesh exposed? Severus crossed to the drinks cabinet and said, "May I offer you a drink?"

"_La Fée Verte._"

The English translation was 'The Green Fairy', another name for absinthe, a pale green spirit said to have mind-altering properties. He showed no outer reaction, but inwardly curled a lip. Bella's preference for the drink was well known. She was so enamoured of it, she brought an absinth fountain- a large jar of ice water on a base with spigots- to any party she attended. Severus found the ritual amusingly pretentious. Keeping his thoughts hidden, he said, "Ap Meurig does not stock absinthe, but I can offer you a tolerable elf-wine, or vodka, if you desire."

"_If I desire,"_ the witch drawled, rising to her feet. She sauntered over to ask, "What do _you _desire?"

He wasn't imprudent enough to say 'not you.' Severus preferred to avoid making such a vicious, unstable woman his enemy. He picked up a decanter. "Ogden's Finest."

Bellatrix was silent as he poured a shot of whiskey. He looked at her and raised a brow. She snapped, "Vodka, then. Russian. Neat."

Severus handed her the drink poured with no mixer as requested and walked over to sit in one of the wing chairs flanking the fireplace. The Death Eater sent to "observe his progress" sat facing him. She took a hefty drink and then set the glass on a side table.

"_Tea is served, Mr. Snape, Mrs. Lestrange,"_ said Gruffydd, entering with a tray. He placed it on the low table and backed out of the room.

"Gods, are those round things supposed to be biscuits?"

Severus nodded. "They are."

"Gods," she said again.

"Which ones?"

Bellatrix said, "I worship only the Dark Lord."

The fanatical gleam in her eye prompted Severus to change the subject. "To what do I owe the honour of your visit?"

The woman sat up straight with her hands on the arms of the chair as if it was a throne. "Lord Voldemort has a mission for you."

He let the silence drag out. Minutes passed. Severus finally decided to humour the Bellatrix and asked, "What is it?"

She gave a thin smile. "You are to find the one who calls himself the _Welsh Werewolf_ and recruit him to our cause." Her smile became one of genuine pleasure. "Word has reached our master that he rivals Greyback in ferocity."

Was she anticipating Voldemort's approval of her efforts or did she relish the thought of displacing a competitor within the inner circle? He decided not to use Legilimency to discover the answer. It was likely both. Instead, he offered to pour her another drink. Bellatrix gave him a heavy-lidded smile while brushing his fingers with hers to accept the glass.

"I could offer to keep you _company _until dinner."

He said, "Kind of you, but I must check on the progress of a solution. Gruffydd will return to show you to your room, but first, if you will indulge me, was there a special meaning behind your emphasis of the werewolf's name?"

Half a tumbler of vodka slid down Bellatrix's throat before she said, "I thought I made it clear I was willing to _indulge _you, but since you prefer potions, I'll repeat what I was told." She recited, "Tales of the Welsh Werewolf date back to the 18th century, when Muggles were terrorised by a creature who roamed this area. It attacked a stagecoach and tore out the throats of the horses, killed people and farm animals before disappearing mysteriously." A fleeting smile crossed her face. "It turned fields into lakes of blood from its carnage."

Severus got the point. Any wizard touting himself thusly was publicly admitting his own feral nature. If proven true, the werewolf would be a useful tool. He nodded and said, "My thanks for the information. Until dinner..."

"I will accompany you. I've always wondered what a Potions Master's dungeon was like, and our Lord expects a report on your progress in that area as well."

He watched Bellatrix drain the rest of her drink. "This way."

Out in the corridor, she fastened her robes with an irritable, "Is this mouldy old dump always this cold?"

Severus replied, "No, it is often colder. The weather is unusually mild for this time of year."

She shuddered. He repressed a smirk.

Down in the dungeon, Severus could tell Bella was disappointed to find it not much different from one at Hogwarts. He did not know what she expected, but worktables, cauldrons, and storage cupboards were standard items.

"I'd thought the specimen jars would be more impressive," she said, reaching out to tap one of the containers floating in air. The eel floating within opened its mouth at her. Bellatrix stumbled back. "Hell! The thing's alive!" She watched it settle back down and said, "I wonder if the Dark Lord could do that to his enemies."

His eyebrows rose, hearing her laughter. Her eyes gleamed with unholy mirth. "How do you think Dumbledore would look pickled?"

Severus quipped, "More wrinkled."

While she examined the specimen jars more closely, he stirred a bubbling solution in a cauldron. Out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw something on the floor and bent to pick it up. It was a ribbon. The last time he and Eris had…passed the time…waiting for a potion, he must have dislodged it when he kissed his way down her throat.

Bellatrix had begun to stroll toward him. He quickly stuffed the ribbon into the inner pocket holding letters and the tiny soapstone carving from Tom. She said, "Summon the retainer. There's nothing here to _hold my interest_, so I may as well go to my room and begin composing my report."

He pretended not to comprehend her double meaning and strode directly to the fireplace used for communication. After summoning Gruffydd, he began chopping black cohosh flowers.

"That odour's revolting!" said Bella, keeping her distance.

That was the idea. He was not brewing insect repellent, but in a way…

"_Follow me, Madam."_

Severus waited until his unwanted visitor swept out of the chamber to smirk.

-

Dinner consisted of Bellatrix drinking steadily while complaining about her room, the castle's lack of amenities, and the poor quality of the food. Severus listened and nodded when she seemed to expect it.

In the drawing room after dinner, she challenged him to a match of wizard's chess. Resigned to allowing her to win, he agreed. Awhile later, he heard,

"_Meow…"_

The woman sitting opposite saw the cat and did something unexpected. She cooed, "Oh, a kitty! I didn't see her roaming earlier. Come here, puss, Bella will pet you."

The Siamese walked with a strange tread, rear legs bent, almost like a squat, with her hind end and tail lifted. She meowed repeatedly as she padded toward them. Ignoring the woman, Epis dropped beside his chair and began rolling over and over, mewing urgently. Severus grew concerned.

Bella snorted with derision. "Never had a cat, have you? Pick her up."

Once in his lap, Epis put her head into his hand and rubbed hard. He obliging stroked her back. Immediately, she raised her rear end high and began to knead his knee with her front paws, 'talking' constantly. Severus felt a frisson of alarm.

Across from him, Bellatrix taunted, "Do you even know why she's presenting herself to you?"

Epis made a noise like a growl.

He said, "Is she ill?"

"No, you idiot, she's in heat."

It had been a long, long, time since he had leafed through a book on cats in the Hogwarts library, and even then, he had not been concerned with reproduction, for Merlin's sake! He stared blankly as phrases from Tom's letter flashed into mind.

_Bloke said it was from Bolivia…Munanchi amulet…find a way to wrap a hair from a girl you desire around it, and who knows…_

Bella snickered, lowering her gaze to the cat. "Sorry, pretty puss, I think he's pining for a lost love. Snape's not even interested in his own species. Better go find a virile tomcat to _help_ with your little problem."

Epis sprang off his lap, bounding out of the room, her yowls echoing. The match resumed. Distracted by thoughts of Eris on their bed, waiting for him, he made a careless move.

"Checkmate!" crowed his opponent. "Care for a rematch?"

He had not planned to lose so fast, but did not care. "No, thank you, I have an enquiry to make concerning the mission. Good night."

With a slight stagger, she walked toward the drinks cabinet. "It will be if some tom puts that cat out of her misery. Otherwise she'll be caterwauling all night."

He inclined his head. "Ap Meurig will ensure she does not roam the halls disturbing guests."

"He'd better. I hex anything that disturbs my sleep."

Severus had reached the doorway when she asked, "_Are _you pining for Greyback's little girl?"

"No," he said coolly.

Disbelieving laughter followed him into the corridor.

-

Severus took the stairs two at a time and jogged down the corridor toward his chamber. The moment he closed the door, Eris pushed him back against the wood, rubbing against him. His response to the stimuli was radically different from when she was a cat.

When she released his lips to take a breath, he said, "You are not in heat, you are under a spell."

She laughed throatily and pressed closer. "Call it what you like, as long as you help me with my _problem_."

Severus fumbled for the cloak pocket and reached inside with one hand to remove the amulet. "Look," he said, "your ribbon, with one of your hairs on it, wound around this and…what are you doing?"

Eris had plucked one of his hairs and was wrapping it around the erotic carving. "There, now we're even, so stop talking and start stripping."

It felt like the blood to his brain immediately rushed south. Severus grinned and dropped the amulet onto a growing pile of clothing.

-

In the morning, he freed the hairs from the amulet and locked it away in a bespelled box inside his warded trunk. Perhaps they would utilise it again sometime in the future, but not anytime soon. Mutual love and desire made it too potent. He'd had to drink a double dose of _Bottled Sleep_ in order to become functional.

A sigh brought his attention to the bed, where his partner lay sprawled, deep asleep. She made the tiny sound again. He smiled. It sounded like a contented purr. His smile grew as he put on the Holocaust Cloak.

In the kitchen, he accepted a mug of coffee from Gruffydd and said, "I need the direction of a wizard named Bledri."

The man's face bleached of colour. "Bledri Fawr?"

"Is he a werewolf?"

Fear crossed the old man's face. "Yes."

"Then yes, Bledri Fawr."

After gaining the information, Severus waited for Bellatrix to come downstairs. She wandered into the kitchen a quarter hour after their arranged meeting time, squinting against the light.

"There's no hot water," she said flatly.

Gruffydd said dispiritedly, "Guests must engage their own charms."

"I figured that…_afterwards…"_

Severus extended a mug of coffee. Bellatrix snatched it, muttering, "If I had the energy to cast a _Cruciatus,_ he'd be writhing in pain."

The retainer's already pale face lost all traces of colour. He shuffled out of the room.

The Death Eater smiled. "He's wise enough to fear me, if nothing else." She drank the coffee and said, "He should fear you, in that gear." Her face showed a flash of fear mixed with admiration. "Where did you get that marvellous cloak?"

"I cannot say."

She shrugged. "Very well, what is the state of your enquiry?"

"I know the werewolf's location."

Bella looked impressed. If she thought he'd made some huge effort to ascertain the whereabouts, he would not disabuse her. She nodded sharply. "Let's go. I want to get this over with so I can return to the Master's side."

Severus almost smiled. Fenrir Greyback had expressed much the same sentiment. He held onto the sleeve of her robe and Apparated to the wizard run pub frequented by Mordred and his old friend Baudwin. A ten minute walk brought them to the stone cottage inhabited by the man they'd come to see.

Bledri Fawr answered the door with a surly, "What do you English want with me?"

Bellatrix took one look at the brawny, shaggy haired man and lifted her wand. Affected by the cloak, her hand shook, making the gesture less than threatening. Severus stepped forward. "We represent the future leader of the Wizarding world, the only wizard who truly values your abilities and wishes to reward them."

"You-Know-Who?" said Bledri, frowning as he took a step back from the figure radiating menace.

"Lord Voldemort," Bellatrix declared proudly.

The werewolf spat at her feet. "I bow to no Englishman, whatever he calls himself."

"Better men than you have died for such insult," the woman said through her teeth.

Severus longed to use a muting spell. She was using all the subtlety of a rock troll. He said persuasively, "The Dark Lord offers you the opportunity to use your gifts..."

Bledri turned his back on them dismissively.

Bellatrix shouted, "_Crucio!"_ When she rescinded the curse, the woman screeched, "Serve our Master or I will make you wish for death!"

On the ground, the werewolf bared his teeth. "I am not so easy to kill."

Severus took hold of Bellatrix's arm, feeling satisfaction when she flinched. In a tone so low the other man visibly strained to hear, he said, "Are you able to regenerate a heart that has been cut out and burnt while you watch? The Dark Lord has need for Inferi, if you cannot be persuaded to gain power instead of death."

"_Power?" _

Within that single word, Severus heard pain and fear, hope and need. Most importantly, he heard capitulation. Although his "observer" was visibly disappointed, he nodded, and hidden beneath the shadows of his hood, Severus smiled in satisfaction.

-

* * *

-

A/N: I've had Disney films…or maybe music in general…on the brain recently, lol. This chapter didn't make me hum CCR, although I titled it for that. Instead, the end made me sing a song from the film _Prince of Egypt_ 'You're playing with the big boys now.' Only two more chapters left in the sequel, so it's about time!


	9. Dealing with Dragons

Those of you who read my D/G fic of the same title as this chap might remember I'm a fan of Patricia C. Wrede's _Enchanted Forest Chronicles. _Maybe it's because, like Ginny or Eris, I can identify with the heroine, lol. **Cimorene was the youngest daughter of the King of Linderwall, and her parents found her very trying.** :D

* * *

-

Chapter 9- Dealing with Dragons

-

In the dungeon laboratory that remained cool even in summer, Severus lowered the flame beneath a cauldron. After a final stir, he glanced toward the storage cupboard. The potion needed to simmer for another hour, so he decided to use the time to inventory.

"Once the Elixir of Courage reaches potency, the only task left to accomplish is filling out Ministry paperwork," Mordred said from his perch on a nearby stool. Over the last year, the old wizard had taken to spending more and more time in the dungeon under the guise of supervising. What the master had actually done was shared secrets learnt in a lifetime of potions making. The experience far surpassed Severus' expectations.

He knew it was due to their friendship. The Welshman was one of the few people with whom Severus let down his guard. Not completely, but it was enough. The honest exchange of ideas and opinions had given each a high regard for the other. The younger man smiled briefly. "I look forward to being addressed as Potions Master."

"Few beside apothecaries will think much of it, but I will always be proud to claim you as my finest apprentice."

Severus huffed in amusement. "I am your only apprentice."

Mordred chuckled. "True, but after you have gone , I believe I shall continue to open my doors. In my dotage, I find company more agreeable than solitude."

"You could always marry," said Severus.

"Dera cannot abide this castle for more than a few days at a time," replied Mordred with a wry smile.

"Is there any reason you could not maintain two homes?" asked Severus.

Long white hair shook, as the Master said thoughtfully, "No…no there isn't." With a smile, he said, "To repay you for the sound advice, I will assist with the inventory."

Severus examined the stores to determine what needed replenishing while Mordred composed a list. The elderly wizard looked up in surprise when he heard salamander wool called out. "How did that become depleted?"

"I made firegel."

"You needed more? For what purpose?"

Mordred's brow creased in puzzlement. It slackened in astonishment when Severus admitted, "To facilitate my dealings…with a dragon."

"Why would you be seeking out a_ draig_, a dragon?"

Severus hesitated briefly and then asked, "Would you be willing to keep a secret?"

The wrinkles around dark eyes creased. "I have so many secrets kept inside, they would fill the dungeon if I let them out." Mordred said, "There's room for one more."

"Very well…I have been charged with the task of determining whether an accord with dragons is possible."

Astonished laughter filled the dungeon. "You can't domesticate them, much less make a pact!"

Personally, Severus agreed, yet he quoted the letter Lucius had sent last week, "A treaty with giants was also thought impossible, until it was done."

"And how many wizards died in the attempt?"

Severus replied, "That was a sacrifice they were willing to make."

"You-Know-Who, and those who bear the Dark Mark, but not the families of the wizards they sent to their deaths!"

Like a _Morsmordre_ in the sky, the mention of exactly who was ordering the expedition into the mountains cast a shadow of dread over the chamber. Although Severus wished otherwise, no countermanding of Voldemort's orders was possible. If a wizard died attempting to carry out his task, there was always someone else to send. Although Severus found it galling to be treated as expendable, he said only, "It is the Master's will."

"Master of death and pain, perhaps…is the lure of power so strong the end justifies that man's means?"

Mordred's tone was pensive, his expression concerned. Like Eris, he asked out of a genuine need for understanding, and received a truthful answer. "Yes." Legilimency was not required to read the disappointed acceptance in the old man's eyes. Severus braced himself to hear the response.

"So be it. Have you prepared a list of items needed on the journey?"

"No."

Shaking his head, Mordred reached for a quill and a piece of parchment. "Then we need to remedy that."

"_We?"_

"First item, firegel, which you have obtained…to anoint skin, as clothing can be made fireproof with a charm..." Mordred looked up and said, "Yes, _we- _I cannot allow my apprentice to wander off into danger unsupervised."

"Sir…I do not think…"

"No, you are certainly not thinking," said Mordred, "Have you any experience scrambling up mountains, circumventing dragon keepers or approaching a dragon lair undetected?"

"Do you?"

"Yes." Mordred met the sceptical look with a challenging one. "You intend on discovering whether dragons can be made allies through Legilimency, correct?" When he nodded, the old man said, "Then use it to determine my experience, boy."

Severus gazed into canny dark eyes and saw…

_Two wizards with dark hair scrambled down a mountainside behind a blonde woman. Each of them carried sacks across their backs. When they reached lower altitudes, the trio stopped to rest. The woman conjured a goblet of water and drank before offering it to the man who kissed her in thanks. The second man stepped toward her with his lips opening and closing like a fish. The wizard she'd kissed reached into his sack and pelted his friend with…_

"Dragon dung?" asked Severus, breaking eye contact. "You risked your lives for _dragon dung?"_

"Do you know how much it cost back then, before the Ministry stepped in and regulated it? Dera and Baudwin both cultivated plants which responded best to that particular fertilizer, and I wanted dragon scales, so we all felt the prize worth the risk. That wasn't our first time up the mountain, either."

The apprentice frowned. "You needed powdered dragon scale for a potion?"

The master cleared his throat, looking away as he said, "Ahem…No, I…have a dragon scale collection. Keep them mounted on the wall of my bedchamber. Dera says the effect is like a multicoloured mirr…ahem…"

Severus decided to take his word for it. The two men avoided each other's gaze while they composed the list until Mordred said, "When shall we leave? In the morning?"

"So soon?"

"The long scramble won't get any shorter."

Did Mordred expect him to laugh? Severus curved his lips politely and sat down to wait for his Elixir of Courage to come to full potency.

"Bottle some of that for us to take along," said Mordred, rising to leave.

Severus imagined standing on a high summit overlooking a sea of peaks. Swallowing hard, he nodded. That was an excellent idea.

-

He returned to quarters illuminated by dozens of enchanted candles.

"_Happy Anniversary!" _Eris greeted, handing him a glass of sparkling wine.

Severus smiled a bit, remembering how ill at ease he'd been that first night, asking that a bottle be sent to his room. He had already booked the best room at the inn. He had flatly refused to order champagne for one. Eris had laughed softly and assured that anything with bubbles would do.

She was laughing softly now. "The couple that ran the inn thought you were a jilted bridegroom drowning your sorrows, didn't they?"

He smirked. "True, but since they gave me a discount on the room, I could not complain."

Eris touched her glass to his. "I have never regretted choosing to spend my life with you."

Severus set their glasses aside in order to clasp her fingers in his. He was more comfortable showing his feelings, but for her sake, he said, "You are my truest companion in every sense of the word." After pressing a kiss to the back of each soft hand, he said, "Whatever the future holds, I will hold true to you."

Later, once the wine was gone and all but a few candles were extinguished, Eris reached beneath the bed and handed him a box. Severus opened it and stared blankly at the shirt, trousers, and cloak lying within. They were old, serviceable ones.

"I made them fireproof. Your gloves and boots are dragon hide, so they didn't need it."

He asked, "How did you know?"

"I went down to the kitchen to play with Gruffydd- he loves dangling string- and heard Mordred tell him you two needed a rucksack of food for an expedition in the morning." Her smile was wobbly. "I knew he didn't mean hill walking."

"No." Severus tried to lighten the sombre mood. "Shall I bring you a dragon scale for an anniversary present?"

"I'd rather have you return in one piece."

He kissed her tenderly. "I will do both."

-

Before what Mordred called 'The Quest' began, a third member joined the party.

"_We must away, ere break of day, to find our long-forgotten gold!" _sang Baudwin, striding into the kitchen. He noted Severus' blank astonishment and asked Mordred, "What's with him? Isn't Tolkien required reading in Muggle Studies anymore? It damn well should be!"

"I recognised the line from _The Hobbit_, but what I do not understand is what you are doing here," grated Severus.

"_I like six eggs with my ham when starting on a journey: fried, not poached, and mind you don't break them," _Baudwin said to Gruffydd, who winked and began conjuring.

"Is he mental, does he believe himself to be Thorin Oakenshield?" demanded the apprentice of his master.

Mordred chuckled. "No, no, he's more hobbit in temperament, always wanting to stop and eat." In a carrying whisper, he added, "And look at those hairy toes!"

Severus looked. Hastily glancing away, he said, "This was supposed to a secret."

"Secret?" Baudwin interjected, "A picnic after some hill walking?" He jerked his head toward the retainer who had his back to them and said, "I'll keep it a _secret_ if you and _Mordred _insist."

The younger man caught the implication that Baudwin was Mordred's Secret Keeper and sighed in exasperation. He watched each man wolf down a breakfast he and Eris together would not be able to consume, and wondered how they would be able to walk, much less scramble up a mountain.

After the three had Apparated to the mountain range where wards and dragon keepers contained Welsh Greens, he found out.

Potions…Mordred and Baudwin each drew several from the rucksacks they carried.

"Strength, Stamina, and Speed," said Baudwin, pointing to each flagon in turn.

"Balance, Breath, and Bounce," said Mordred, gesturing to his own small cache. He saw Severus' brows rise and said, "If you fall, do you want to break your neck, or would you prefer to bounce?"

He would rather feel like a dunderhead than die. "Bounce."

Baudwin conjured three shot glasses and handed them out. He reached for the first flagon. "Cheers."

Severus removed two flagons from his cloak pocket and said, "Elixir of Courage and Indigestion Reliever."

Mordred placed a hand to his stomach. "Bless you, boy."

After the trio consumed the potions, Baudwin chanted several spells to neutralise smell. "There. We'll muffle sound when we get nearer to the peaks. The dragons and their keepers will never know we're coming."

"Shouldn't we use Disillusionment Charms to prevent them from seeing us?" asked Severus.

The old friends exchanged glances. "Of course," said Mordred. "I was testing you."

"You passed with flying colours," added Baudwin. The men evoked charms to dispose of empty flagons and blend with the landscape.

With a sinking feeling, Severus followed the trail of pebbles disturbed by feet and the muffled noise of wizards making their way up the slope. After a half hour, he asked with studied casualness, "When was the last time the two of you journeyed up the mountain?"

"Not so long ago," said Mordred, sounding just ahead of his Apprentice. He changed the subject. "Have you read many dragon legends, Severus?"

"No. I do not know much about them, except basic physiology, and that they seem intelligent creatures."

"Well, they don't hoard gold and certainly don't prefer silly virgin girls to sheep," Baudwin's voice came from ahead and slightly to the left.

"What about virgin sheep?" Mordred said laughingly, "I prefer lamb to mutton. Why wouldn't a dragon?"

"I'll be sure to share that revealing comment with Dera," taunted Baudwin. After a moment's silence, he yelped, "Merlin, my hand…you hexed me!"

Mordred's tone was smug as he warned, "You'll get more than a Stinging Hex if you…"

"Dragon keeper, behind us- be still and for gods sake be silent!" Severus whispered fiercely.

Once the patrolling wizard on his broomstick had become a speck in the distance, Mordred said, "I should've added Augmented Sight to the rucksack."

They continued to climb up the challenging terrain, Severus reflecting that without the potions, he might not have been equal to the task. Safely moving over steep ground was difficult enough _with_ enhanced abilities. As they scrambled up the exposed rocky ridge toward the summit, the young man was grateful to have taken a double dose of courage.

He disliked heights.

Without artificial calm, Severus knew his brow would be perspiring and his hands slippery. He would have seen the sheer drop to one side and had to combat nausea. Aided by the potions, he coolly remained focused and kept scrambling toward his goal.

It was reached much sooner than expected.

Not long after they'd used a spell to mute footsteps, and tied themselves together with an enchanted line of string, they came upon a lone dragon. The massive creature was sunning itself on a rock; green scales almost iridescent in the light. Severus took one look at deadly claws and cursed Lucius for cavalierly volunteering his services.

"Ahem…go on, we'll keep our wands at the ready," whispered Mordred.

Severus took a step forward. Small, dislodged pebbles rolled down the slope. The sound, like the whisper, was barely audible, but it was enough to cause the dragon to open its eyes.

Immediately, Severus delved into the mind of the beast. A series of images flashed into mind…

_He was riding wind currents…diving to snatch a sheep for dinner…crunching bones with his teeth…watching as a dragonet emerged from a brown egg speckled with green…firing narrow jets of flame at small flying creatures that kept him from escaping invisible boundaries…_

The connection was broken when the dragon sprang upwards, the wind generated by its wings blowing Severus to the ground. The wizard held his breath, not wishing to breathe the dust billowing up. He waited until time had passed and the Green did not circle back to ask, "Is everyone all right?"

There was a tug on the line, as if someone was rising to his feet. "I'm fine…I just haven't been that close to a dragon before," said Mordred.

"We always snuck around the edges of their lair," Baudwin chimed in. He started to laugh. "Metres away, old friend. We were only metres away from a dragon!"

Severus was still reeling from the experience. He said, almost to himself, "They are in no way like giants. There is intelligence, a reptilian cunning, but they have a fear and loathing of men that makes any attempt at communication futile."

"Not to mention fatal for the poor bloke who attempts it," said Baudwin.

Mordred shuffled forward until he could pat Severus' arm. "You have accomplished your mission. They cannot ask for more."

Severus looked around and saw something green shimmering on the rock where the dragon had perched. He walked over and picked it up.

"That is a small scale, most likely from a claw- keep it as a reminder of your time in Wales," Mordred said, his voice directly behind his apprentice.

"I will need no tokens," said Severus, pausing to reach out to find and put his hand on the old wizard's shoulder, "to remember my finest master." He heard the shaky breath the other man took and was heartily glad they could not see each other. Severus cleared his throat and called out, "Baudwin, where are you?"

"Behind the rock! That Green was here long enough to leave behind more than scales. After I complete a drying spell, there will be enough for all of us!"

Severus said, "Dung…the real treasure of dragons." When Mordred chuckled, he added, "I will assist you in gathering some for Madam Bowen."

"Thank you."

Severus put the scale in his cloak pocket. "No," he said quietly, "Thank you."

-

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A/N: Partings are such sweet sorrow! Severus and Eris are leaving Wales, but won't part from readers until after the next chapter. People who've read my previous Severus stories know I'm also a Tolkien fan. (and a Princess Bride fan, and too many others to mention. :D) The readers who gave reviews worth more than gold last chap were…...♥ **cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley**♥** Elspeth Bates **♥ **Fauzia **♥** FNP **♥** GraceRichie **♥ **Machiavelli Jr **♥** MollyCoddles**♥ **sunny9847 **♥** and **♥ **The Ravishing Enchantress **♥


	10. A Wedding and a Funeral

Chapter 10- A Wedding and a Funeral

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"Master Snape, a customer is requesting your assistance."

Severus looked up from the solution he was stirring anti-clockwise. He never got tired of hearing his new title, but he was heartily sick of his position. Brewing potions was not the problem. It was the customer service expected of him. Unlike the clerk waiting with an expectant smile, he was not a _people person. _Grudgingly, he nodded and left the cauldron to ascend the stairs to the apothecary shop.

A portly middle-aged wizard in tailored robes stood by the back counter, glancing around nervously. Severus' lip curled. Had the man never seen the inside of a Knockturn Alley shop before? The younger wizard asked, "How may I assist you?"

"I want the Potions Master."

"I _am _the Potions Master," said Severus.

The customer's eyes bulged. "You're barely out of Hogwarts! How could you be an apothecary, much less…"

"Master Snape is the youngest Potions Master in Britain, and _Dante's _is very fortunate to have acquired his services," said the goblin clerk, Mr. Wilytongue.

"I'm sure," said the man, in a tone that suggested the opposite.

Severus, in his six long weeks of employment, had become used to the prejudice of the ignorant. He waited with barely concealed irritation for the customer to ask the question deemed important enough for him to leave his potions to answer. When the man began to stammer, he snapped, "State your question. My time is valuable."

The customer acted more like a first year than a fifty-something. "I…I…"

"I cannot render aid if you are not coherent," said Severus.

"I-need-a-love-potion," the man said in a rush.

Tight lipped, Severus informed coldly, "Such a thing does not exist. A semblance may be evoked, but no true emotional attachment will take place."

"We do, however, carry a wide selection of entrancing elixirs," said the goblin, flashing sharp teeth in a persuasive smile. "Bottled, powdered, or inserted into chocolates, you are sure to entrance the object of your affection." Waving a hand toward the left side of the shop, the salesclerk asked in a low, deferential tone, "Were you looking to inspire mild infatuation or full-blown passion?"

After shooting Severus a wary glance, the wizard said, "Er…I mean…passion."

"Right this way, sir."

Wilytongue's ability to ingratiate himself to customers was nauseating. Eris had laughed when he had said the goblin was likely to suggest draughts that were fatal if overdosed if someone asked for an Undetectable Poison, but Severus had been only half-jesting. The clerk's joy in life seemed to consist of making sales.

When the goblin walked away, Severus told the man, "If you need anything else—hesitate to ask," and stalked back down to his laboratory.

A half hour later, his co-worker clomped down the stairs again. "Master Snape."

"What dunderhead is in need of assistance_ now_?" he cut in, extremely vexed. His potions were almost ready to be decanted. If another fat solicitor desired a potion to facilitate the seduction of his assistant, he would substitute a Detestation Draft instead.

Beady goblin eyes widened. Wilytongue jerked his head back slightly and said meaningfully, "You have such a dark _humour_, Master Snape."

"To go along with my dark mood," retorted Severus.

"How fortuitous I have an affinity for the Dark," a man's voice drawled. Lucius Malfoy, in elaborate robes, carrying an ivory-topped walking stick, made his way down the stairs. He raised a white-blond brow at the clerk. "Your presence is no longer required. Run along."

"Yes, sir."

Smirking at his protégé once the goblin had returned to the shop, Lucius said, "Did I hear you refer to a potential customer as a _dunderhead?_ What would your employer say about that?_"_

"I am sure you will tell me."

Lucius smiled. "As long as profits remain steady, and your _real _work is done, I couldn't care less about customer satisfaction." Striding forward, he asked, "Is my order complete?"

"Yes, it is wrapped in brown paper on the back table."

"Like a present under the Weasley Christmas tree, how droll." Lucius picked up the box and answered Severus' questioning look. "My fiancée ran into Molly Weasley at _Fortesque's_ yesterday. The woman's some sort of cousin, and had the effrontery to thank Narcissa for not inviting her to the ceremony, since it saved her the bother of sending an owl to decline." He laughed shortly. "Someone whose husband works for the Ministry really shouldn't offend anyone in a position to impede promotion, should they?"

"No," said Severus. While Lucius stared off with a malicious smile, no doubt envisioning revenging the slight, he siphoned the potions into flagons. After storing them, he said, "I have never attended a wedding. Is there any special attire required?"

"Dress robes are _de rigueur_, and I prefer joining ceremony to wedding, which sounds so Muggle."

Severus said politely, "I will look forward to the joining ceremony."

"No you won't. No man does, except the groom." Lucius added, "I would look forward to the ceremony even more if Eris was standing beside my bride instead of Bella. Wouldn't you?"

"Not particularly."

Lucius' gaze was one of faint pity. "I suppose not." He shrugged and headed toward the stairs. At the bottom step, he lifted the package slightly. "Is there a potion to…relax maidenly inhibitions?"

"Yes."

"Send it to me for a joining gift."

Concealing amusement, Severus inclined his head in agreement.

-

At the end of the day, He bid Mr. Wilytongue a civil farewell and headed toward Diagon Alley. Eris had requested several items from McGregor's market. To Severus' dismay, shoppers thronged the popular grocer's and impeded his progress at every turn. Grimly, he consulted his list and gathered fruit and vegetables as quickly as possible.

"I didn't know vampires liked garlic," said a voice Severus had hoped never to hear again.

He placed the bulb in his basket. "Is that your idea of a conversational gambit, Potter? Maladroit as ever, I see."

The wizard attired in a Muggle-looking tee and denims shrugged. "It was a joke, but you didn't get a sense of humour along with your Potions Master status, I see."

Severus walked over to a mound of lemons. James followed. "Look, Snape, I saw you and just thought you should know…." He looked around to make sure no one was nearby. In an undertone, he continued, "People who have contacts inside the Auror Offices say Eris Greyback is about to be officially considered a cold case."

Cold cases were low priority, shunted off into overcrowded files that, although not technically closed, rarely opened for re-investigation. Severus kept his gaze on the yellow fruit in his hand. "I cannot think why that information should be of any interest to me."

"Really? Do you have a cat? Maybe _she'd_ be interested."

Was Potter implying he knew Eris was an Animagus? Before Severus could demand an answer, a woman's voice called, _"James? Did you get the lemons?"_ Lily Evans, dressed in similar fashion to Potter, walked over, stopping abruptly when she saw him.

He nodded. "Evans."

She smiled hesitantly, lifting her left hand. "It's Potter, now."

Severus looked from the man shifting uncomfortably to the woman who did not seem to know what to make of their conversation. He murmured, "My condolences," and walked to the opposite side of the shop.

On the way home, he replayed the encounter in his mind. Severus determined that Potter had kept Eris' secret…even from his wife. How _interesting_. Inside the once-dreary flat Eris had transformed into a comfortable, pleasing home, he put away the groceries and picked up a note.

**I'm in the back garden.**

He snorted over her flattering description of a patch of weed-infested grass. Downstairs, the couple who resided in a flat on the ground floor sat at a picnic table watching their ten-year-old play ball with a Siamese. The mother said, "Good evening, Mr. Snape. Our Harry's wild about your cat. If you ever decide you can't keep her, we'd love to give Epis a home."

Severus nodded curtly, while inwardly thinking, _I am certainly not wild about Harry…horrid name for a horrid boy._ Eris felt sorry for the child whose parents often left him home alone while they worked, but he had no pity for a would-be cat thief. He called, "Epis, come."

She ran straight to him. He picked her up and met the child's scowl with a narrow-eyed look of warning before turning on his heel to leave the so-called garden.

Back upstairs, his partner transformed and kissed him 'hello.' It was one of her quirks, the need to bestow kisses upon greeting and parting, but he did not mind. Severus eventually pulled back from the kiss to say, "I saw an _old friend _of yours today at the market."

Dark blue eye lit up. "_Who?_ Claire? Diana? Emma?" She laughed. "I know Cissy would never lower herself to do that sort of shopping."

Pleased his old enemy hadn't made the list, he said, "James Potter."

She asked, "How are he and Lily doing? Did you speak or just…."

"You knew they were married," he said levelly. How had she known?

Her eyes scanned his face. "Yes. Didn't you? The announcement was in the _Prophet_."

He relaxed, shaking his head. "No."

"Did it…upset you, to find out?"

Was she worried he might hold some secret tendre for Lily? Women were such jealous creatures. Severus could not prevent a smile. "No, although I did offer _Mrs. Potter_ my condolences." Her smile faded when he shared, "Potter told me your disappearance is soon to be declared a cold case."

"That's good, right?" she asked. "Tom was reassigned months ago, so no one is looking for me anymore."

He hated to remind her, but he said, "Fenrir will never stop hunting you. I believe he honestly considers you his daughter."

Eris buried her face against his shoulder. "In a way, that's sweet, and yet it's…."

"Frightening?"

"MmHmm…"

He stroked her hair. "You would be safe with Rhys and Catrin."

Eris looked up. "I don't want to be safe. I want to be with you." Her eyes began to shimmer. "I walked by a Muggle church earlier. They were rehearsing a wedding, so I stopped to listen." She paused to swallow. "The bride said something I want to say to you." Soft fingers caressed his face. "I will never leave you nor forsake you, Severus."

He bent to kiss her, repeating the vow. Over dinner, he told her about his day and mentioned the upcoming ceremony. "Do you still wish to attend?"

She shook her head regretfully. "I think an extra guest, even if temporarily invisible, would trigger wards somehow. It's too risky."

He said, "What about an invisible cat?"

Her smile was wide and mischievous. "Purr-fect."

-

The _joining ceremony_ of Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy was held on the lawn of Malfoy Manor. While security trolls kept the rabble from the _Quibbler_ and European papers at a distance, the couple allowed a photographer from the _Prophet_ a single press photo. Beneath the enormous white tent erected to house the reception after the ceremony, Severus sat with an assortment of distant female relatives, unsure whether to regard the seating as a compliment or not.

"Wasn't the ceremony _beautiful!" _gushed a fourth cousin of the Blacks, a reed thin spinster with a voice to match. She smiled hopefully at the only male in the vicinity.

Severus felt invisible claws dig into his shoulder and had to look away to keep his composure. His gaze fell upon the head table. At the centre, Lucius and Narcissa talked quietly while sipping champagne. The bride and groom, both in white, matched the flowers, linens, and china. During the ceremony, an old crone had whispered audibly, "Whoever heard of a white wedding?"

Tom, sitting beside Claire, caught his friend's eye and grinned, cutting his eyes over at the forty-something spinster before giving a thumb's up. Severus pointed his thumb down, causing Tom to laugh and whisper in his partner's ear. Claire giggled.

Severus' unseen companion licked his cheek. His lips twitched. He appreciated the comforting gesture, but the laughter at his expense bothered him not at all.

"Hello, Snape."

Fenrir Greyback stood beside the table, whisky tumbler in hand. He used it to gesture toward the head table. "I should be toasting m'little girl." After drinking the contents, Fenrir set the glass onto the table with a thud. "But she won't be marryin' Rabastan now. He's betrothed to one of those Carrows girls." He said dully, "And she won't see him…or her grandfather again."

"Is Tyr ill?" asked Severus.

"On his deathbed," said Fenrir. He gave the guests around him a contemptuous look. "My position required I attend, but I'll not stay one minute longer than I have to."

When the man started to walk on, Severus asked, "Might I be allowed to pay my respects?" In his lap, 'Epis', who had jumped down upon hearing Fenrir's voice, trembled violently.

"Meet me in the library after the toasts. We'll Floo to see him. Healer doesn't think he'll last much longer."

"Thank you," said Severus. Fenrir nodded and moved on.

-

Tyr Greyback lay asleep on the bed, his drawn features already cadaverous. Danica sat in a chair beside her father-in-law, an album of photographs on her lap. At the window, Erik stood with his arms crossed. When he saw Severus standing in the doorway, he said, "What are you doing here?"

"He came to pay his respects," growled Fenrir, pushing into the room to face his nephew. "Thinking of your sister, no doubt, which is more than can be said of the rest of you."

Erik rolled his eyes and turned away. Danica, looking thin and tired, said quietly, "Ulrik made the decision to cease the investigation and go on with our lives. We must abide by it."

Severus noted the woman's fingertips stroking her daughter's picture. Fenrir prowled over to place his hand over hers. "Will you forget?"

A silent communication took place. Danica smiled faintly. "Never."

"You won't _allow_ us to forget, constantly bringing up our family's shame, reminding everyone what incompetent fools we are, ruining my future," Eric said bitterly. He shook his head. "I won't stay here if you're going to bring her up again, Uncle. I'll return later."

Danica watched her son leave and said, "Eris'…disappearance…has been hard on…."

"On us all," Fenrir interjected.

Her lips turned down. "Not all of us."

Fenrir's hand clasped Danica's. "Ulrik's a fool."

She did not disagree, or pull her hand away.

Being witness to such an exchange made Severus highly uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. Fenrir stepped back and said, "Let Snape sit with Tyr while we take a walk. You haven't tended your garden in weeks. Flowers need dead-ing."

"Dead-heading," corrected Danica, with a faint smile. She looked at Severus and held out the album. When he took it, she said, "I wish we had met again under pleasanter circumstances, Mr. Snape."

"As do I, Mrs. Greyback."

Severus waited until Danica and Fenrir had left to take off his cloak and place it on the floor. He saw the fabric rise and fall as his invisible companion wriggled out of the enlarged inside pocket. Draping the cloak over the chair, he sat and leafed through the album. Eris had been a remarkably attractive child.

The hand of the wizard lying on the bed made a jerking movement, drawing Severus' gaze. He glanced at Tyr's face. The old man's eyes were open. "W…wards," he rasped. "Not safe."

"Meow…"

The cat became visible. Tyr stared in awe at the Siamese who nudged his hand with her head. Shaky fingers lifted and touched downy hair. He whispered, "Clever…_Kettling_."

Kettling, Old Norse for kitten, was Tyr's pet name for his granddaughter. Severus rose and walked to the window, to give them privacy. He returned only when Tyr's breath rattled ominously. After several tries, he said, "Do not…return." and closed his eyes.

Severus watched the feline continue to nudge the man's hand. He said quietly, "We must leave."

She mewed pitifully and sprang off the bed.

-

Three days later, Severus returned for a funeral. Ulrik spoke words that described his father's life. He did not relate the important aspects of Tyr Greyback. His love of family, and that he carried out his duty…even when his duty became onerous. In a detached manner, Severus watched flames engulf the miniature Viking ship floating upon the lake and wondered if there was a Valhalla beyond the veil.

While mourners returned the house for the reception afterwards, he remained behind. Fenrir approached. Eyes bloodshot and swollen, the werewolf held out his hand. "Before he died, my father wanted you to have this."

Severus was taken aback to find a stone pressed into his hand. He said, "I am honoured."

Fenrir's gaze was fixed upon his nephew and sister-in-law walking toward the house. Nodding abruptly, he moved to trail after them.

-

Back at their flat, Severus held Eris close while she cried. Eventually, her breath became less shuddery.

She said, "I'm ready to see it now."

He stroked her hair once more and then reached into his pocket to draw out the stone worn smooth by sand and time. It was a rune. Upon the black surface was a carving that looked like one X stacked upon another.

"_Ing, _from the aett, or tier, named for Tyr, the Norse god of battle," Eris said shakily. She took a deep breath and continued, "It means victory, although we have to face hard times and difficulties. Afi is telling us to stop dwelling in the past, to embrace new opportunities."

"I need no stone to know as long as I embrace you, the future will be bright," he said gruffly.

She smiled through tears. "I love you."

He echoed the sentiment bold idiots like Potter no doubt shouted from rooftops, and kissed Eris softly. Slowly and tenderly, Severus comforted her in ways that reaffirmed life and love more than words.

-

* * *

- 

A/N: When I found out the poet Dante was a member of a Florentine apothecary guild, I had to name the shop in his honour, although in those days men joined guilds to participate in city politics, and he probably didn't brew potions or sell tooth powder. :D Anyone who recognises Mr. Wilytongue or the 'White Wedding' reference from other stories- I heart you for that! Special thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. If you read **Into the Dark**, I'll be a happy writer!

Those who reviews made me happy last week were……...♥ **40/16 **♥** centaursaremyfriends **♥** cupcakeswirl **♥ **die Loreley**♥** Dipper **♥** Elspeth Bates **♥** FNP **♥** GraceRichie **♥** MollyCoddles**♥** petiteloupegarou **♥** Slipknot-3113 **♥ **sunny9847 **♥** and **♥ **The Ravishing Enchantress **♥


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